


Digital Ghost

by SpookiePie



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Death, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Mystery, Spooky, Thriller, questionable science jargin, questions about life and death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookiePie/pseuds/SpookiePie
Summary: When Roxas begins getting calls from random numbers, all consisting of static or hold music, he thinks nothing of it. It's annoying, yes, but nothing special. Just spam. But slowly, the calls begun to shift into something much stranger, and Roxas, curious by nature, is lead down a strange path to uncover a long forgotten mystery .





	1. The Call

It was a Tuesday afternoon when Roxas got the first call.

At first, he thought it was just spam or a misdial. All he heard was dead air. 

Perhaps a connection had dropped, or what should have been an automated message failed to play. He hung up after his hello’s went unanswered, and he failed to hear anything beyond silence on the other end. He didn’t think much of it. 

The next day, he got a second call. It was from a different number, so he answered, only to be met with silence again. And again, he hung up and thought little of it. These things happen.

He thought something was odd when on Saturday, he received yet another call, from a third number. This time, however, when he picked up he was met with music. A little staticky and bland, it sounded like some royalty free junk. He thought perhaps he was somehow on hold, and waited for a bit to see if anyone answered on the other side.

No one did, so Roxas eventually hung up with a huff.

When the next call came two days later, Roxas didn’t answer. It was again a new number, but he wasn’t going to fall for it again. So he let his phone ring and ring until it eventually went to voicemail. He couldn’t even say he was surprised when he had a message later. Nor was he surprised that the message contained more of that staticky music. He _was_ a little surprised to see the message was twenty minutes long, though. Mostly because it was annoying. 

He deleted the message and blocked the number it came from.

When the fifth and sixth calls came, Roxas was starting to get irritated. He let them both go to voicemail, and again, twenty-some-odd minute messages were left, one playing the crackling cheap music again, and the other just more dead air.

So far, all the calls had come from different and seemingly random numbers, but Roxas figured if, or when, he got another one, he’d give it a call back to see who it was. After all, maybe it was a call center, or his own friends playing a prank on him.

When the next call came a day later at a blood pressure spiking 5 am, that’s just what he did. Around noon, of course. After he’d gone back to sleep for a few hours and started his day.

“Tonberry’s and Cream Ice Cream! How can I help you?” came the chipper female voice from the other end of the line.

“Uhh,” Roxas faltered. Of all the the things he was expecting, some ice cream joint was not on the short list. “Um, hi? Why... why did you guys call me?”

There was a pause from the other end, before a confused, “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, I... got a call from this number, and I wanted to know why someone called me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but no one uses this phone to make outgoing calls. It’s just so people can contact the shop. It wasn’t us,” the girl responded, trying to be polite and apologetic, while firmly telling him he was wrong.

Roxas frowned. “But, I _did_ get a call from you. Around five this morning, and the message that was left was just fifteen minutes of hold music.”

Another pause. 

“Uh, I’m sorry sir but... no one even comes in to work ‘til 9 am at the earliest. There’s no way it was us. Are you sure it was this number?”

Well, _that_ gave him some pause. “I... yes? I’m sure. I mean, I just hit ‘call back’ so there’s no way I misdialed.”

The girl hummed in thought. “Sorry, sir. I... really don’t know why it would show our number, but there’s no way it actually was.” She chuckled.

“Huh. Well... sorry to have bothered you.” Roxas sighed.

“No worries! I hope you figure out who called you. Have a good day!”

Roxas bid her farewell, and hung up. He double checked the number, just to be sure, but it _was_ the same one that had called him.

Left with no answers, Roxas just had to hope the calls would stop.

The calls did not stop.

He continued to receive calls off and on over the weeks, all at different times and from different numbers, but none ever offered anything more than the same crackling music.

Roxas eventually stopped answering his phone, or listening to the messages altogether. There was no point. He also kept his phone on silent more often than before, not wanting to be woken in the middle of the night again or disturbed during his lectures at school.

“Maybe you should change your number,” his roommate, Zexion, offered one day. Roxas had been nose deep in one of his neuroscience textbooks _trying_ to study, when his phone had rung once again. He’d simply denied the call and, with a huff, tossed the device over his shoulder onto his bed.

Roxas just groaned and slumped in his desk chair, head lolling over the back. “Ugh, do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to change your number?”

“More of a pain in the ass than getting spam calls, what, daily now?” Zexion countered, with the ghost of a smirk.

Roxas crossed his arms over his chest. “Not _every_ day.... just most,” he grumbled and rocked in his chair lazily as he scanned over the books on his desk. Or rather, the array of propped up screens. Universities had stopped carrying physical textbooks long before Roxas had entered college. Easier to keep everything on digital files. Takes up less space, cheaper to distribute, and far easier to change the text if, or rather when, new information was discovered. It was better that way, Roxas supposed. Older generations had once lamented the loss of physical books, but Roxas had always been a tech junky. 

So, when it came time to study, Roxas’ desk was crowded with lit up tablets, each opened to a different file or “page” in a book. He’d even constructed his own rig to hold them, each device on its own adjustable arm so he could move them around at will. Someday, he hoped to be able to afford one of the new, fancy projection models. A single device that would project multiple files and programs in a 3d space.But, as a struggling student and intern, Roxas didn’t have the money for that, and his multi-tablet setup would have to do.

And speaking of being a student, there _was_ a test coming up in his class soon, and knew he needed to study, hence the ten tablets currently open. But he didn’t think he’d be making much more progress that night. He poked at the screens one by one and shut them down, then scooted away from the cluttered desk. 

“Look, I’ll do something about it this summer if it’s still bothering me. Right now, I have too much to worry about with school to be changing my number and dealing with... all that. It’s easier to ignore for now.”

Zexion just shrugged, seeming perfectly willing to leave Roxas to his decision. “If you say so.”

The weeks passed and Roxas continued to get calls. And, as planned, he continued to ignore them.

Until one day, he didn’t.

A Saturday afternoon found him alone in his and Zexion’s shared apartment, sitting on the floor of his room. Scattered around him, were all manner of tools and parts. Some screws and pins here, a couple extra wires and motherboards there. Roxas himself was hunched over, tinkering with his latest project.

It was nothing special, really. He’d taken apart a couple common electronics: a very basic service bot and a second hand home A.I. He had also swiped one of the brainwave monitors from school. It looked a bit like a clunky pair of headphones that wrapped around the back of one’s head. Only, instead of covering a person’s ear, they had two pads that stuck onto their temples. It was an older model, and didn’t get used in classes too often. No one would notice it was gone. Hopefully.

The plan was simple; he was going to modify the small bot using the various parts he’d vultured, and hopefully use the brain wave scanner to control it. Connecting and controlling tech through a physical link was one thing. That had been successfully accomplished years ago with prosthetic limbs, for example. Such examples started off with connecting to local nerves, and eventually moved up into linking directly to a person’s brain, via a port at the base of the person’s skull, a chip or other small implant.

Others had expanded on the concept in similar ways. Some construction equipment did away with seats and control panels, and option to hook workers directly to the machine itself in order to control it.

Others still were looking into linking directly to phones or televisions, or other such devices.

The technology was simultaneously making leaps and bounds, and being kept to very limited use. It was expensive, after all. And still somewhat risky to implant a port to the base of one’s skull and connect things to a person’s brain willy-nilly.

The technology was there yes, but people weren’t walking around with such connections at all times. Yet. 

Still, Roxas had always been fascinated by the concept. The brain and its abilities, both known and still untapped had been a point of interest for him ever since he was young, and was why he began tinkering with machines and studying the mind in the first place. 

For a long time, he had hoped to have his own port or chip implanted. But such a thing was well out of his price range. And he knew his mother would have a fit over him _“doing something so dangerous!”_ But that restriction had inadvertently sent him down another path. Unable to physically hook himself up, Roxas had been forced to look into brainwave scanners instead, which had quickly become his new fascination. The technology to hook someone up physically to a machine was there, but Roxas had begun to explore the possibility of tapping into someone’s mind remotely.

That interest had let him to the Institute. And to tinkering further with his own personal experiments. On his own, he’d successfully used the scanner to command a light to turn off and on at will. It had started off small, with a simple box he’d built that housed a single small light. He’s calibrated the scanner to connect with a chip he’d placed inside the box. And with many long nights and much trial and error, Roxas had eventually managed to turn the light on using just his mind. It was both a tiny and momentous triumph, and he may or may not have bounded into Zexion’s room at 3am to proclaim his success.

From there, he’d slowly worked on upping the complexity. Add a few more lights, or change them out for a single larger bulb. He had found that each change had taken considerably more work and concentration to successfully control, but that with each success, returning to the simple one-light design became easier and easier.

Now, he was looking to do something bigger. Which brought him to a little bot he was currently constructing. He would start, again, with lighting some of the small bulbs he placed on it. But, the big hurder, was to make it move. Make a wheel spin, or a gear turn. _Something._

Roxas was right in the middle of switching out a few wires, hunched over so far that his face was mere inches from the device he had cobbled together, when his phone rang. It began to buzz and play one of its preset tunes, startling Roxas and causing him to jump. The motion inadvertently touched the wires together and gave him a shock. Not enough to damage, but enough to sting and make him yelp and nearly toss his little invention.

He hissed and shook his hand to abate the stinging sensation, before he turned his glare on his phone. In a moment of frustration, Roxas grabbed the device and, instead of hanging up like he’d gotten used to doing, answered.

“ _What?_ ” he growled into the phone. 

It was a mistake, of course. No one would be there to take his frustration out on, and all he’d get in return was more shitty music.

Except, this time, he didn’t. There was still no human answer from the other side. But instead of the same, cheap and badly recorded hold music, he heard the crystal clear sound of a violin. He wondered briefly if someone was actually on the other end this time, playing for him.

The first note hummed to life and gently swelled, rising and falling as though the instrument itself were singing.

It caught Roxas off guard. It was just so... different from what the other calls had offered. It was crystal clear and beautiful. And perhaps it was just him projecting but it sounded... sad. 

As the notes swelled, the world around Roxas dropped away. The melody drifted on. It rose and fell and sang to him in a way that tugged at his heart and filled him suddenly with a strange sense of longing. The angry fire that had been in him just moments ago was quickly snuffed out, replaced with a loneliness he couldn’t place. So, he sat in silence, phone pressed to his ear, and simply listened to the bittersweet music.

It moved him in a way it probably shouldn’t. It was just music after all. Not that music couldn’t make him feel, but he shouldn’t feel it so _intensely_. The sudden longing and nostalgia and loneliness shouldn’t have weighed down on him so heavily.

Yet it did.

Unlike the other calls, whose shitty music went on for twenty minutes, or silence that went on indefinitely, this call only lasted about two minutes. Roxas listened to the whole thing, and when the song ended the call disconnected, and Roxas was left in silence.

For the first time since the ice cream place, Roxas tried to call the number back.

“ _We’re sorry,_ ” came the stilted and robotic automated message. “ _The number you are trying to reach is not in service. Please hang up and try again._ ”


	2. Log 1.1

_“Have you seen his work?”_

_“Who?”_

_“⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ from the neuroscience labs!”_

_“No, why?”_

_“You should look at what he’s doing. The guy’s a genius.”_

_“Hmph, if he’s so extraordinary, why haven’t I seen him or his work yet?”_

_“’Cause you’re arrogant and loud and tend to not notice other people who aren’t as equally arrogant or loud?”_

_“...That’s not true.”_

_“It’s kinda true. Anyway, you really should look at his work. The things he’s doing with brainwaves and consciousness are amazing. He could be tapping into something revolutionary here.”_

_“Sure. I’ll check it out whenever I have the time. Now, about last week’s tests—”_


	3. The Siren

Roxas didn’t receive another call for the next two weeks. The silence he had once thought would be a blessed reprieve now just made him feel antsy.

He found himself checking his phone every hour, to see if he missed a call—to see if there was a message waiting for him. Whenever he thought he heard a ring, he scrambled to grab his phone, only to be disappointed when it was someone else’s device, or just his imagination.

“I cannot believe, after how annoyed you were before, that now you actually _want_ to get more spam calls,” Zexion remarked one day, as they waited for the train to take them from their classes to the market, so they could restock their shared, and currently empty, kitchen.

“I don’t!” Roxas replied a little too quickly, and stuffed his phone back into his pocket,as though he hadn’t just been checking it for the tenth time that day. “The last call was just... interesting! I want to know if the message’ll change again.”

Zexion hummed. “You’re a true scientist.” And, as was so often the case with his roommate, Roxas wasn’t sure if it was sarcasm or a sincere compliment.

Their train arrived, gliding into the station, smoothly and quietly as ever. Modern marvels in and of themselves, the sleek trains used a magnetic field to propel them and keep them on course, as opposed to traditional tracks and engines. The field kept each car aloft just a few inches above the ‘track’, while an alternating field helped push and pull the trains in whatever direction they needed to go. It was cleaner energy, and it made for a much smoother, quieter ride than back in the day.

Zexion and Roxas shuffled into one of the cars and took up a spot near the back. Rush hour had not yet begun, so there weren’t too many people on board yet. With any luck, they’d get in and out of the store and back home before the real crowd began to fill the trains. It was never fun to haul bags of groceries into an already packed train car.

As the vehicle started up again and zipped off down the track, Roxas grabbed onto one of the hand holds, and resisted the urge to check his phone again.

“I’m just a little curious about what that last call was about, ‘s all,” he continued. “I dunno. Honestly, it’s kinda looking like they may have actually stopped, anyway, so it’s probably a moot point.”

“You can finally carry on your life in peace,” Zexion responded flatly, though Roxas had known him long enough to hear the humor in it. He just chuckled in response.

“Guess so.”

For the next three weeks, his phone was quiet. Roxas did, in fact, carry on as usual. He was kept busy with not just his classes, but with his much coveted part time internship at the Daybreak Institute.

Sitting in the center of the city, the Daybreak Institute was a monumental tower made of marble and crystal clear glass. It was the city’s jewel, not just for its impressive architecture, but for its fame as a renowned place of learning and scientific breakthroughs. All the brightest minds worked there, and if there was news about some big discovery, especially in the sphere of neuroscience, one could assume it came from the Institute.

The local university was equally regarded for the bright minds it produced, and often acted as a direct funnel to the Institute itself. Roxas and Zexion both took classes at the university part time, and worked as interns for Daybreak the other half of their time. At twenty two and twenty three respectively, they were some of the youngest employees, even if it was just as interns. Others had gone to school twice as long as they had, just to have the privilege of entering the building.

Both were working in the neuroscience field, of course, though Roxas’ secondary interest was in technology and mechanical engineering aspects, while Zexion was more interested in biochemistry.

Roxas was glad to be roomed with Zexion. The man was someone he could relate to and bounce ideas off of or ramble about his latest work to without getting a confused look in return. And the two kept fairly similar, if not odd hours. It wasn’t unusual for one or both of them to stay up all hours of the night working on something for school, their internship, or their own personal projects.

The following quiet weeks had found Roxas making more progress on the little droid in his room. He had, again, been able to make a single light on it illuminate on command, using the brainwave monitor. Being able to do that alone with just his mind was still an accomplishment.

His next goal was to tinker with the machine and add more lights to once again work his way up through complexity.

It was the end of another long Tuesday when Roxas planned to return home to do just that. 

That morning, he had received a call, and nearly leapt across a desk to grab his phone. However, it was only his mother calling. Sheepishly, he’d scurried out of the lab and answered, “Hey mom.”

“ _Sweetie!_ ” his mother’s over exuberant voice answered, and Roxas had to pull the phone away from his ear with a wince. “I just thought I’d call to see how you’re doing! How is school going? Are you eating enough? Getting enough sleep? You know, I read that college students don’t ever eat healthy or get enough sleep, and I thought ‘not _my_ son! I’ll make sure of that’! So-!”

“Mom! Mom,” Roxas interrupted the woman’s verbal waterfall with a small, in not exasperated chuckle. “I’m eating just fine. Me and Zexion went to the store and everything the other day. And yes, I’m getting enough sleep.” That second part was a lie, but his mother didn’t need to know that.

“Oh,” she said, with an overly dramatic sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good! You know I want you to take care of yourself!”

“I know, mom.”

“I _also_ want to hear from you more often! You live so far away, and I so rarely get to talk to you!”

Roxas just rolled his eyes, thankful the woman couldn’t see it. “Mom, I live twenty minutes away at most, and you call me almost weekly.”

“Still,” the woman sniffled.

“Tell you what”, Roxas glanced at a nearby clock hung on the wall. “I’m at work, so I can’t really talk right now. But I’ll come visit next weekend, ok?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” hi mother cheered, instantly perked up by the promise to see her boy. “You’ll have to tell me all about school, and work, and I can cook a nice dinner for you, and we can go out to the market together and-!”

“Ok, okay mom, I gotta go! Work’s calling, I loveyoubye!” Roxas hurried out and hung up before the woman could protest. He knew if he didn’t, she was likely to keep him on the line all day. Thank God she hadn't figured out texting. Yet.

With a sigh, he returned to the lab. From his position at one of the room’s computers, his lab partner for the day was giving him a curious smirk. “Who was that?”

Zack, alongside Zexion, was one of the few people Roxas considered a truly close friend. He wasn’t an employee of the Institute strictly speaking. Rather, he was a nurse at the nearby hospital. But, he often came in to help at Daybreak, especially when human volunteers were involved. Being an intern, and often stuck with the tedious task of filing paperwork for subjects, Roxas often found himself working alongside the man. Zack was roughly eight years older. He was playful and outgoing, but also had a calming, grounding side to him. Both aspects probably helped him a lot in his nursing job. Either way, Roxas had become fast friends with him.

“Just my mom.” Roxas shrugged, and knew it was a mistake as soon as Zack’s smirk turned into a shit-eating grin.

“Oh-ho! Didn’t realize you were a momma’s boy! That’s really sweet, Roxas.”

“‘M not...” Roxas grumbled and tossed a crumpled up piece of paper at the man’s head. And truth be told, he really wasn’t. He loved his mother—of course he did. But, she could be… smothering, at times. Most times. She didn’t like Roxas living “so far away”, and though she was proud of how smart her son was, and acted interested in his schooling, it was obvious she’d be much happier if he’d simply taken up a job just down the block from their home. Roxas was lucky his school and the Institute were in their town, otherwise he was sure she’d have never let him leave for college. It had been a fight just to get her to let him move out of the house and into a dorm.

She did it because she loved him, he knew that. But he often felt trapped and smothered by her as well.

“I just thought it.... Was someone else,” he answered. He couldn’t exactly tell Zack ‘oh, I thought it was this mystery caller I’ve had lately!’, so he left it at that.

“Suuuuure,” Zack drawled, but graciously let the topic drop so the two could get back to work.

By the time his shift was over, Roxas wanted nothing more than to get home, sit in front of the tv, and tinker with his project before passing out for the night. He took the long elevator down to the ground floor, and was soon walking through the expansive entryway. More atrium or cathedral than anything else, the large entryway was all white marble walls and towering windows, ending three floors up in a glass ceiling.

The waning afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting the whole room in a warm, reddish hue. The place was mostly quiet, save for soft conversation from other employees on their way out and the sound of Roxas’ footsteps as he crossed the room’s open expanse, all of which was amplified and echoed in the large space.

“Goodnight, Arnold,” he said to the guard droid that stood by the entryway.

Arnold, as the droid was called, looked fairly human-esque, but like most droids, had little in the way of personality. He was simply there to make sure no one entered the building without proper ID and clearance. His name, appearance, and pre-programmed greetings were just there for the comfort of the humans who interacted with him.

Roxas had gotten into the habit of greeting the droid, anyway, and just as he was programmed to do, Arnold responded in a formal, and stilted fashion.

“Goodnight, sir.”

Detecting the chip in his badge, the large front doors slid open for Roxas with a hiss, and he stepped out into the warm, evening air. As he reached the top of the steps leading up to the building, Roxas felt a buzzing from his pants pocket.

He stopped, fished out his phone, and checked the caller ID, expecting his mother to be calling him again. It would be just like her to time his shift down to the minute in order to call him back.

It wasn’t her, however. It was, to his excitement, another unknown number,

Roxas’ eyes lit up, and he quickly hit the ‘answer’ button. “Hello?” he said breathlessly as he held the phone up to his ear. Would he hear the same violin music again? Another instrument or song, maybe? Would he be disappointed to hear silence or the staticky hold music?

What he heard was none of those things. At first, it was in fact, just silence. Roxas began to feel a creeping disappointment, but decided to try one more “Hello?” to see if anyone or anything would respond.

And then he heard it.

It was quiet at first, so quiet he had to strain to listen. A strange, droning sound crept in from the other end. It rose in pitch, then sloped back down, over and over, as it slowly grew louder. 

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Roxas realized it was a siren. Not the high pitched wailing siren of an ambulance or alarm. But the loud, deep droning sirens one would hear during an air raid or natural disaster. They echoed and reverberated from the other end of the line, as though heard from a distance, but they rattled him nonetheless.

“H-hello?” He tried one more time, voice weaker than before. Was someone on the other end? Were they in danger? There was no way to know, as, still, no one answered.

The siren continued its wailing cry from the other side. The haunting sound went on and on, with no sign of stopping, yet Roxas felt powerless to hang up. He stood frozen to the spot, phone pressed to his ear, staring ahead but not really seeing or paying attention to anything around him.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the world crumbling around him. The very fabric of reality tearing at the seams. Streets and buildings dissolved and crumbled into voids, and people warped and distorted before finally disappearing altogether. The destruction and unmaking of the world spread, tearing everything asunder and leaving nothing—literally nothing—in its wake but a powerful emptiness.

He was only pulled from his frozen state when an older colleague passed by and and bid him goodnight. Roxas jumped and lowered the phone, before stammering out his own weak farewell.

He hit the ‘end’ option on his phone and stared down at the now blank screen.

His hand was shaking.

He needed to get home. 

The train ride back was a blur, as were the quiet streets of the university he walked to reach his shared dorm. He just went on autopilot, wanting to retreat to the safety and comfort of his room as soon as possible.

Zexion wasn’t home yet when he reached their unit, and that was just fine with Roxas. He went straight to his room and shut the door, leaning against the old wood. He took in a deep, shuddering breath, and it felt like the first air he had breathed since the call.

When he was able to peel himself away from the door, he went straight to his desk and plucked one of the tablets from its holder. The rest of the evening was spent searching the internet for news on any natural disasters.

There was nothing. No articles on news sites, no social media posts. Nothing. Roxas didn’t even know which cities would have those sirens. Did his?

He tried to call the number back, but it led him to a local animal shelter, which was already closed for the day.

Ultimately, he could only conclude that the siren sound had been a fake, a recording of some sort, and he was just being fucked with. As such, there was no reason for it to bother him.

So why had it shaken him to his very core?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My author notes got messed up last time, but I wanted to thank cameronclaire for being my most amazing beta for this story!


	4. Log 2.1

_“You were right.”_

_“I was? I mean, of course I was! ...About what?”_

_“About ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛’s work.”_

_“You finally read one of his papers?”_

_“I read all of them.”_

_“Heh, I told you you’d like his stuff.”_

_“I want to work with him. At least talk with him. Pick his brain, maybe. He has and office down on 2B, right? How come I never see him there?”_

_“He doesn’t come in much anymore.”_

_“Really? He’s still working though, right? Where can I find him?”_

_“Well...”_


	5. The Clock Tower

“So, allow me to get this straight,” Zexion said, pouring his morning coffee into his favorite mug. A hideous thing, hand painted with a fish on it, and the phrase ‘just keep swimming.’ They’d found it at the second-hand shop, and Zexion had insisted he get it. For the life of him, Roxas couldn’t understand why.

“You finally got another call, and when you picked up, it was... a siren? And what, it scared you?”

“It _unnerved_ me,” Roxas corrected. He wasn’t a child, he wasn’t scared. He _wasn’t._

Zexion just waved his hand to brush away Roxas’ weak protest. “Semantics. Either way, even that seems like an overreaction. It was probably just a recording, Roxas.”

“I know that!” He shot back, then took a deep breath to steady himself. When he spoke again, he was careful to keep his voice even and soft. “I _know_ , ok? I’m aware it shouldn’t have bothered me but it... it did. I dunno,” he sighed, staring tiredly down into his own cup of coffee. “Maybe I’m just not getting enough sleep, or... or being kept on edge with work and classes and stuff.”

He was annoyed with himself as much as he was shaken. He hadn’t slept well that night after the call. It had been hard to even drift off to sleep, and when he did, he was haunted by a strange dream. A nightmare, really, where he was in one of the highest labs of the Institute. He dreamed he heard the siren, but was unable to move, or speak, or do anything but watch as the whole world crumbled and broke apart around him.

He’d awoken with a cry, drenched in a cold sweat and shaking. It wasn’t normal.

But now, in the bright light of morning, and in the face of explaining it to Zexion, it all seemed kinda silly.

“Perhaps,” Zexion hummed, sipping his coffee, and Roxas was grateful there was no judgement in his friend’s face or voice. “Classes and work have kept us both busy, as of late. And I know with the new project moving forward at Daybreak, everyone's a little on edge.”

For the past month, some big project was underway at the Institute. It was all very hush hush and still on a need-to-know basis, and interns of all people certainly did _not_ need to know. In fact, most people there were still in the dark about what it entailed, but all departments were having to chip in to prepare for it nonetheless. Doing all that extra work for a project they knew nothing about had begun to make everyone a little testy.

Roxas, for his part, had been given the grunt work of going through mountains of paperwork, filing and gathering information on everyone who had ever worked or participated in a study at the Institute. Specifically, he was told to pull out anyone who had worked with the Neuroscience department and had any kind of brain scan done. As far as he was aware, Zexion was having to do very much the same down in the Biochemistry labs.

“Anyway, I know you didn’t want to resort to this,” Zexion continued. “But I really do think you should consider changing your number. If these calls are going to actively upset you, I think that would be for the best.”

Roxas sighed heavily and ran a hand through his messy locks. “Yeah... yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll look into that.”

Roxas did not, in fact, look into getting his number changed.

Not that he didn’t mean to, or was purposely defying his friend’s suggestion. He was simply busy.

The calls still came, of course, but Roxas didn’t dare answer his phone again. Nor did he dare listen to the messages left for him.

But, he didn’t delete them either. Each time he tried, finger hovering over the list of unread alerts and the ‘delete’ button, something stayed his hand. He didn’t know what it was that made him reluctant to remove them entirely. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, or the memory of that lone, somber violin that had moved him so. Either way, Roxas left the messages to sit in limbo, unheard but not forgotten.

Zexion, however, was starting to get annoyed. For how mellow and even tempered his roommate was, Roxas could tell the unending and unanswered calls were starting to grate on the other man as well.

Finally, one Tuesday afternoon, he had had enough.

Roxas had gone to his morning classes, while Zexion had a shift at the Institute, but they both had the afternoon and evening free.

With little else to do that day, the two had ordered takeout and holed up in their living room to watch tv on the old flat screen they’d both pitched in to buy. The days were just getting warm enough to be comfortable with only a sweater, so they’d opened the windows, and let the warm afternoon sunlight pour into their small flat.

Roxas’ phone had rung again, and as usual, he ignored it. He hardly even registered it ringing now, with how often he simply let it go to voicemail.

“Roxas,” Zexion said, voice soft and even as always, but Roxas could hear the underlying tension.

Zexion was less inclined to ignore it.

“I have to ask; do you intend to actually do something about the calls, or are you resigned to just ignore them for the rest of your life? Or is this perhaps some grand social experiment you’re enacting upon me?”

Roxas chuckled and hit the ignore button on his phone to silence it. “Sorry, sorry. I haven’t had the time to change my number.”

Zexion hummed and nodded, but looked unimpressed. “And I suppose you just haven’t had the time to delete the messages either?” He leveled Roxas with a flat look that had the blond shutting his mouth before trying to defend himself. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the growing number of unread voicemails that pop up when you’re messing with your phone.”

Roxas managed a sheepish smile and poked at his food. “I know, I know. I should delete them.”

“But?”

“But,” Roxas took a deep breath and leaned back in the old, faded blue couch they shared. He paused, thinking, before responding in a much softer voice, “...I don’t know.”

Zexion opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sudden shrill ringing of Roxas’ phone. Roxas looked down to see it was, in fact, another unknown number. Which was strange because, despite their growing consistency, the calls had rarely happened twice in a day, and never back to back.

Roxas looked back up and he and Zexion shared a look.

“Roxas,” Zexion said slowly, in the warning tone one might use on a child about to do something they shouldn’t.

And in that moment, Roxas was the child and he was not listening. He hit the answer button, then immediately put the device on speakerphone.

At first there was silence. It always started with silence. But slowly, sound started to trickle in through the phone’s speaker.

Voices, surprisingly. Nothing he could make out, but it was undeniably the sound of human life. Distant voices faded in and out; the low murmur of adults chatting, punctuated by the occasional high pitched squeal of an excited child or a barking dog. Other sounds included the low rumble of a vehicle passing by, distant music from a performer, and running water like a fountain.

Roxas realized it sounded like a town square, bustling with life and people. It conjured up images of a place alive and bright and full of energy. A sense of ease and comfort washed over him. It felt like coming home. It was walking the well-worn streets of your hometown, knowing every shop, every face, every nook and cranny.

It was all interrupted by a bell tolling. A distant clock tower, coming alive to mark the hour. The sounds of life in the square ceased, as quickly as a candle being snuffed out. Made silent by the bell.

A second toll rang out, and Roxas felt it vibrate in his gut. The hair on the back of his neck rose and his felt his pulse quicken. All images of the happy, bustling town center grew dark. People disappeared, lights went out. Everything faded into complete darkness, until the only thing Roxas could see was the small patch of ground beneath his feet. With a fourth toll, that disappeared too, and Roxas was falling, falling, falling into never ending darkness.

It rang eight times in total, each one feeling like a punch to the gut. But the crushing silence it left behind was far worse than the sound.

“....as!”

“Ro..s!”

_“Roxas!”_

Roxas returned to reality with a jolt and a startled gasp.

Zexion, who had been a few feet away when the call started, now stood in right front of him with a hand on Roxas’ shoulder. He withdrew quickly when Roxas focused his gaze on him, and stepped back, peering down at his roommate with a look of concern Roxas had never seen him wear before.

Roxas was breathing heavily, gasping for air as though he’d just run a mile. When had that started?

“Wh.... what? What happened? What’s wrong?”

Zexion peered at him a moment longer, before speaking slowly, “You tell me. Roxas, you...” he paused, gathering his thoughts, seeming as shaken as Roxas felt. “You... sort of spaced out there. You had a far away look, and then started breathing heavily, like you were having a panic attack.”

Roxas frowned and looked down at his phone, only to realize it wasn’t in his hand. When he looked back up, noticed Zexion was holding it.

“Sorry,” the man mumbled and reluctantly handed the device back to Roxas. “I... took it and ended the call.”

Roxas just nodded and took his phone back as Zexion slowly returned to his seat. A beat of silence stretched between then, before Zexion repeated, “Roxas, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, frowning. “For a moment it was like I wasn’t even here. I... it didn’t freak you out at all? The call, I mean.”

Zexion shook his head. “No. It just sounded like ambient noise of a park or something.”

“What about the clock tower?” Roxas asked, feeling a little more than upset at how completely unaffected by the phone call his roommate was.

“I heard it, but Roxas there was nothing _weird_ about it. Nothing to be upset over at least.” He took a deep breath. “Roxas, I hate to say this but your reaction wasn’t... _natural_.” Roxas made to protest, but Zexion raised a hand to stop him. “Not just not normal — which it wasn’t — but almost like you were in a trance. Hypnotized, if you will.”

Roxas sat back in his seat, processing what his friend meant. “It was like the other call.”

“The one from a week of so ago? The one that was, what… a siren or something?” Zexion clarified, and Roxas nodded. “Well, I guess I can see why it upset you out so much, if it had that kind effect on you.”

“Why would it have that effect on me and not you? Hell, why would it have that effect _at all?_ ” Roxas asked, frustrated.

“I don’t know, Roxas.” Zexion replied, voice soft as if the non answer shook him as much as it did Roxas.

Another long, tense slice filled the room, the weight of the event pressing down on both men. It was once again Zexion who decided to break it.

“Well,” he said, sounding like a man trying to gather his wits and muster up some courage. “Seems to me you have two major options in dealing with this. Your first one, and the one I would personally like to see you take, is to change your number. Hell, change your whole phone and service provider to ensure you’re rid of this.”

Roxas frowned. He knew that probably was the best course of action. But it didn’t sit right with him. Seeming to understand this, Zexion continued.

“But, if you don’t want to simply let this go, then I recommend you get to the bottom of this,” he said, and picked his take-or box back up, poking at his food as if to eat but not actually doing so. “Dig into this and really figure out what’s going on. You’re a scientist. Approach this like one.” He leveled Roxas with a serious look. “But pick one or the other, because the limbo you’re in right now isn’t doing you any favors.”

Roxas couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him, and he felt the tension in his shoulders ease a bit.

“You really think I could figure out what’s going on here?”

Zexion gave him a long-suffering stare. “No, you’re as dim as our broken oven light. Of _course_ I think you can. Just... be careful. The way the call affected you almost makes me wonder if... if it’s tapping into or syncing with your own brain waves on some level.”

Roxas made a noise of realization. “I hadn’t considered that. Do you think my use of the scanner on my own project has made me more susceptible to something like that?”

“Maybe,” Zexion shrugged, and finally started to eat his food, though he scrunched his nose when he realized it had gone cold. “That is one theory. Or perhaps..” he paused, brows drawn into a frown.

“Or perhaps,” Roxas continued for him, feeling the same dawning dread his roommate seems to be having. “Someone else out there knows how to tap into my neuro-pathways and is doing it on purpose.”

They shared a look, worry and concern clear on both their faces.

“If that’s the case,” he continued. “It means it’s most likely someone at the Institute. Someone else who has the knowledge and the resources to do something like that.

“It’s not out of the realm of possibilities. Though, I would like to think better of our coworkers.”

“But… _why?_ I mean, whether or not it’s someone at the Institute, why _me?_ What did I do?” Roxas was growing more and more agitated by the second. The idea that someone could — and would — specifically target him frightened him, yes. But more than that, it made him _angry._

“Again, I don’t know,” Zexion replied, voice calm as though looking to soothe his friend. “And we don’t know yet if that’s actually the case.’

“Well, then I’m gonna figure it out!” Roxas huffed, and glared down at his phone, as though it was personally responsible. “I’m gonna figure out what — or who — is doing this and why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter, with not a LOT happening, lol. But hey, we're gettin there. Welcome to the slow burn.  
> Thank you to SirLadySketch for helping me beta this chapter, and brainstorm some ideas. Please go read their work!♥


	6. Log 3.1

_“Ah, Dr. S⬛⬛⬛⬛. I didn’t expect you to come visit me at home. Come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”_

_“Hello! I apologize for the sudden intrusion, Dr. G⬛⬛⬛⬛, but you’re never in the labs. It’s good to finally meet you.”_

_“Is it now?”_

_“Yes! I’ve been reading your papers, you see. I’d love to talk with you about your work and findings! Maybe we could even-“_

_“I’m afraid this will have to wait a moment, Dr. I don’t mind having you company but, as you said, you did interrupt me at home. I have things I must attend to first, you see.”_

_“Oh-! Oh, of course, my apologies. Is there anything I could help you with?”_

_“As a matter of fact, there is.”_

_———-_

_“You... certainly have quite a collection of plants. It’s practically a greenhouse in here. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a flower kind of guy.”_

_“They were my mother’s. She was the one who loved flowers and all things green. Her collection was bigger, but it’s been split between us. I kept most of them though.”_

_“I see. And they all need to be watered today?”_

_“Yes. See, I’m afraid you happened to arrive on the one day when all their watering cycles synced up. Oh but I do appreciate your help. You can imagine how tiring it can be for me.”_

_“Of course! Of course, it’s no problem!”_

_———-_

_“That’s the last of them. Now, if we could discuss-“_

_“I’m so sorry! While I do appreciate your help, and you certainly saved me a lot of trouble, I’m afraid I am rather exhausted now. I should rest for the remainder of the day. You understand, of course.”_

_“I-“_

_“Oh good. Thank you again for stopping by, and for your help. Say hello to ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ at the labs for me, please. Good day, Dr. S⬛⬛⬛⬛“_


	7. The Experiment

Much to Roxas’ chagrin, the first step in getting to the bottom of the calls was to actually sit down and listen to the messages that had slowly been piling up on his voicemail.

Initially, he planned to go through them all that Thursday, as he didn’t work at the Institute that day, and only had classes until noon. It would give him the entire afternoon and evening to go through them one by one.

However, Zexion insisted he be present as well, in order to keep an eye on his friend.

_“I’m not letting you play mad scientist all on your own with this. We don’t know what these calls are actually doing to you, so I’m going to make sure I’m there at least to supervise.”_

Roxas told him he was worrying too much and that his own mother hovered enough without Zexion doing it too. Secretly though, he was thankful for Zexion’s concern. And, seeing as the man was busy on Thursday, their dive into the strange calls would have to wait till the weekend.

When Saturday afternoon did finally roll around, the two convened in their shared living room.

“What’s all this?” Roxas asked upon entering and seeing a small pile of medical equipment on their coffee table.

“This,” Zexion motioned to the collection, “is to monitor you while you take on this little experiment of yours. To make sure you’re not actively harming yourself in any way.”

The pile of supplies was mostly just the basics one could find in any doctor’s office: a blood pressure monitor, thermometer, heart rate monitor, and a small pocket light for checking someone’s eyes. Roxas also noticed one of the Institute's laptops sitting on the table next to another brainwave headset that looked exactly like the one he'd snatched from work.

“Did you pilfer this stuff from the medical labs at the Institute?” he asked, throwing his friend a suspicious glance.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Zexion replied. “If I’m going to entertain your experiment here, then we’re at least going to be safe about it and monitor you the whole way through.”

Roxas wrinkled his nose. “I’m gonna be safe, Zex.”

“I know you will be, because I’ll be ensuring it. Now, go get what you need, and make sure to get the brainwave scanner you’ve been using too.”

Grumbling, Roxas retreated to his room and grabbed his own laptop, a spare tablet from his collection, and his own pilfered brainwave monitor. He hauled it all back to the living room and deposited it on the table with Zexion’s supply.

“Okay. What first?”

“First,” he said. “We’re going to get your baseline vitals.”

Roxas groaned but allowed his friend to run him through some basic tests. They determined that, despite getting too little sleep, too little sun, and eating too much garbage, Roxas was fairly healthy, at least according to their minimal checkup.

“Hmm,” Zexion hummed as he noted everything down on the laptop. “Maybe we should get some blood work do-“

“ _No,_ ” Roxas interjected flatly.

“Can’t be too safe.”

“You’re not sticking me with any needles!” Roxas scooted to the opposite end of the couch and out of his companion’s reach. “Getting blood work done is just gonna take longer. And besides, what do you expect to happen? For the calls to raise my blood sugar or something?”

Zexion just sighed and finished writing down his notes. “Alright, alright. No blood work. Yet.”

Roxas rolled his eyes. “ _Anyway._ Can we get started now or what?”

“Get your headset on and we can.” Zexion nodded and picked up his own brainwave monitor. He minimized the notes he’d been taking on his laptop and opened up the Genesis Program, the in-house system the entire Institute used to monitor and track neural scans. The program could chart change in brain activity, along with rough estimations of where in the brain such activity was happening. The laptop version wasn’t nearly as complex, powerful, or detailed as that on the lab’s in-house PCs, but it was perfect for what Roxas and Zexion needed.

“I’ll be wearing one too so we can see exactly how these calls are affecting you differently,” Zexion said as he slipped on the monitor, and set to work syncing it with the laptop.

“Fair enough,” Roxas nodded. He slipped on the headset he’d been been using the last couple months in his own experiments. He pulled out his phone and opened up his own laptop to jot down any notes about the messages or his reactions to them. Along with taking detailed notes on each message, he would also be moving the audio files from his phone to his computer, in order to keep them properly stored and organized.

When everything was finally set up, he shared one last look with Zexion before taking a deep breath and playing the first voicemail.

Roxas braced himself for the worst. For the panic to overtake him like it had with the previous two calls.

Instead, he and Zexion were subject to the utterly mundane sounds of... an office.

Gentle typing on keyboards. Low murmur of conversation. The occasional ringing phone and what sounded like a distant printer turning out sheet after sheet of paper.

Roxas and Zexion shared another, more puzzled look as they listened to the message. Roxas half expected for something to happen, for something to suddenly change the way it had with the clock tower one. But it didn’t.

Ten minutes went by and the message simply ended, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. What’s more, it didn’t affect Roxas at all.

“Ok,” Roxas said slowly as he typed away on his laptop, summarizing the message and his reaction — or lack thereof — in a document to review later. “I guess... I’ll just play the next one?”

Zexion nodded, having noted no change or major difference in their brain waves throughout the recording.

Roxas hit play on the next message, and they were greeted with more ambient sounds. People milling around, their footsteps echoing off hard floor and voices all mingling into a low din of human life. It was only the sound of a train chugging along its tracks and coming to a hissing stop that hinted the sound all came from a station. It sounded old. A kind of steam engine train, that billowed smoke and blew it’s loud horn as it chugged along ground-set tracks. Where such an old train might be, Roxas couldn’t say. There weren’t any in the city, and he’d never actually seen one in person. They were a relic of old movies and novels.

And still, the message had no effect on him.

With a heavy sigh, Roxas entered info on the message while Zexion glanced over his own recordings. He felt irritated. Which was silly, he knew. It wasn’t like Roxas _wanted_ to be freaked out by the messages again. But he was hoping to glean something — _anything_ — from them. And with two down, he had nothing. No strange effects. No connections to previous messages or clues as to what they were about. They weren’t even that interesting, comparatively speaking.

“Whatever. Next one.” He grumbled and hit play on the next waiting message.

The two men sat in silence for a moment as they awaited whatever the phone held for them next, Zexion idly tapping his fingers on the couch’s armrest while Roxas slouched into his seat with a soft huff.

_beep_

Both men froze and looked up as the soft beep came from the phone.

_beep_

Roxas frowned and leaned forward to check if his phone was giving him some kind of alert. But no, the sound had come from the message itself.

_beep_

_beep — beep — beep_

The pace of the little beeps quickened just enough till they formed a steady rhythm, and Roxas realized it was the sound of a heart monitor.

It was like getting punched in the chest.

With a sharp gasp he doubled over in on himself. The other sounds of a hospital room filtered in through the phone’s small speaker. There was the gentle and equally rhythmic hiss of a ventilator. The sounds of human life — doctors and patients alike — milling about outside the room. A muted intercom went off somewhere down the hall, and there was the quick coming and going of footsteps beyond the door. Somewhere in the room, a radio was playing music, though Roxas couldn’t discern the song.

And Roxas felt trapped. He felt hot and stuffy and like his skin was crawling all at once. He wanted to crawl out a window and run. Escape the confines of this imaginary hospital room.

_Good things don’t happen in hospital rooms,_ something in the back of his mind said. Which he knew was silly, but he couldn’t shake the dread nonetheless.

Or maybe it wasn’t dread. Because the panic passed. The need to escape and claw his way out like a wild animal subsided, and was replaced with a deep, deep melancholy. He felt cold as it sank into his bones, and he felt himself slipping down, down, down into a heavy sadness, the likes of which he’d never felt before.

Because there was no escape. The stuffy and over sterile hospital room wasn’t a place one left. It was a place for dust to settle, flowers to wither, and ‘Get Well Soon’ cards to gather on the window sill and slowly yellow in the sun.

“Please stop,” a small and weak voice said, and it took Roxas a moment to realize it was his own.

Mercifully, the message did stop. Whether it simply ran out of time or Zexion ended it, Roxas wasn’t sure, but he was grateful either way.

And as he took in a deep, shuddering breath, Zexion was right there with a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked, voice soft but full of concern.

“Yeah,” Roxas nodded and swallowed hard. “I just... it...” he trailed off and instead motioned lamely at his phone. His hands were shaking.

But Zexion just nodded, accepting the non-answer as it was, and stood. He walked into the kitchen and a minute later, returned with a glass of water, which Roxas took gratefully. “How do you feel?”

“Shaken,” Roxas replied with a weak laugh.

Zexion just nodded again and looked to his laptop to read whatever data had been recorded during the message replay. “Worse than last time?”

“Not worse, no.” Roxas sipped his water as he thought. “Just... different. I felt...hmm.” he frowned, and thought for a moment. “The other messages — I felt like I was bombarded with emotions that weren’t fully my own. Like, I was suddenly... feeling something otherwise outside of myself. But this one? It felt....” he sighed heavily, knowing what he was about to say might seem ridiculous. “It felt _familiar_. Like deja vu or whatever, ya know? I could practically _see_ the hospital room and all.”

Zexion hummed, still looking over the scans and clicking through a few options, though Roxas didn’t doubt the man had heard him. Roxas gave him a minute to finish looking over the scans before he nudged the man with his foot.

“So? What’s it say?”

Zexion turned the laptop so Roxas could also see its screen. “Well, for starters, there was an unusual amount of activity recorded from your scanner, and none on mine, just as I suspected. Now, here’s what’s really interesting.” He showed Roxas a quick side-by-side of their two scans to show the difference, before clicking through a more detailed breakdown of what went on in Roxas’ head.

On the screen was a diagram of his brain, with areas of activity lit up, and breakdowns of each area listed below.

Zexion motioned to a lit up spot on the diagram. “You showed a spike in activity in your occipital lobes. It’s not an area we’d initially expect to see light up so much when you’re only listening to something, as it’s major function is visual processing.

That said, we do also know that damage to the occipital lobe has been linked with visual hallucinations.”

“Could explain why I have a bit of an... out of body experience, for lack of a better term, when listening to those messages.” Roxas nodded, still nursing his glass of water. “What about the temporal lobe? Auditory processing is located there, and auditory hallucinations as well as schizophrenia have been linked to it.”

“That’s where this gets even more interesting,” Zexion replied. “You showed even greater activity in your temporal lobes, yes. And by more activity, I mean erratic activity. Your readings for that area are all over the place. Some of that activity is located close to the auditory cortex, of course. But the most concentrated and erratic of it is located in the medial temporal lobes and hippocampus. As you know, these areas are vital in processing emotions and-“

“And memory.” Roxas finished for him.

“You’ve never been to the hospital, have you?”

“No.” Roxas shook his head. “I mean, I’ve been _to_ the hospital. But just in the front area to see Zack or make runs for the Institute. But I’ve never been _in_ the hospital, so to speak. At least... I don’t think? I mean, no. No, I couldn’t have. I’ve never even had so much as a cavity, much less a reason to go to the hospital.”

Still, it had felt so familiar. He could still picture the sterile white room in his mind. He could see the wilting flowers on the sill and everything. But then, it had to be the messages messing with him. Altering his brain activity in... some way. It _had_ to be.

With a heavy sigh, Roxas rubbed at his forehead. “So... what, then? Where does that leave is?”

Mirroring his sigh, Zexion just shrugged. “I’m afraid not much, except what I had initially suspected — these messages are altering your brain activity somehow, in ways they aren’t affecting me. As for how or why, well...” again, he could only shrug.

A long, tense silence stretched between them as what they learned settled into each of their minds. Finally, Zexion spoke up, though his voice was soft, timid almost.

“Do you want to continue?”

Weakly, Roxas shook his head. “No, I... no. I really don’t.” Despite his desire to get to the bottom of the calls, the last one and their findings therein made him feel... vulnerable. He didn’t like that something — or someone — could tamper with his emotions, and possibly memories, so easily.

It was unsettling. Especially to have the proof of that tampering right in front of him.

Zexion nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. When Roxas looked up, he saw the man wearing a smile that carried both fondness and exasperation. “You don’t _have_ to. The only one making you do this is you, you know.”

That finally got a small chuckle out of Roxas and he batted his friend’s hand away. “Yeah yeah.... _yeah_. Let’s call it.”

Zexion nodded and saved their findings before shutting down the laptop.

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in relative peace. They put their equipment away and decided to use the rest of the afternoon to watch old movies and order take-out. Again. They were simple men, with simple pleasures.

While they ate, Roxas thought about their results. Although he'd opted to put his personal experiments on hold, he still wasn't fully ready to give up on investigating the messages entirely. He was just going to do so from a safer distance: He’d look on Internet forums to see if anyone else was experiencing the same thing.

Roxas perched on his usual side of the couch with his laptop resting in his lap. He stretched his legs out on the couch and Zexion — settled on his own opposite side — was feeling generous enough to even let Roxas tuck his cold feet behind him.

He’d spent the last couple hours since their failed experiment scouring the internet for any thread of information. Mostly he found forums of people complaining about calls that ended up being telemarketing, or from their number being incorrectly listed somewhere, or people who were simply clueless on how their device actually worked.

It took some digging, but finally — _finally_ — it seemed he’d found something.

“Hey. Hey, check his out,” he said, nudging Zexion on his foot. His roommate just turned down the tv volume and inclined his head to indicate he was listening.

“I found a small message board where people are talking about weird calls they been getting. They sound like the same ones. At least, the ones I recognize. The siren, the hospital, the clock tower... there’s more people mention. Maybe some of them are on the messages I haven’t listened to yet?”

“Could be.” Zexion shrugged, and waited for Roxas to continue.

“Let’s see, um... one use says they’ve been getting calls for the past couple months.... oh, _oh!_ Uh this person says ‘ _the calls started out as little more than white noise or elevator music. I figured they’d just stop eventually but they became more frequent and began playing weirder and weirder messages’_!” Roxas scrolled down the forum, reading excitedly through peoples various accounts of the involving mystery calls.

“Has anyone else had the same reaction as you?”

“Hmm,” Roxas frowned, still looking through reply after reply to the little message board. “No...” he finally said with a sigh. “At least, I’m not seeing anyone mention it.”

“I see,” Zexion hummed. “Could be no one else is affected. Or, it could be no one else wants to be the first to admit it’s happening. Couldn’t hurt for you to ask.”

“You’re not wrong.” Roxas nodded and fidgeted with the fraying cuffs of his sweater. “I’ll read through this a little more to see what people have to say, then try that.”

Two movies later Zexion shuffled off to bed and Roxas retreated to his own room.

He had, in fact, taken Zexion’s advice to ask the forum about his reactions to the messages. So with a bit more digging and the acquisition of the username $ea_$alt, Roxas posed the question to the small group;

_“Is anyone having a weird reaction to the calls? Like idk feeling like you’re going kind of into a trance or smth??”_

It had been awhile since he’d asked, but as he checked his laptop again, there was still no response. Deciding he’d check again in the morning, Roxas moved to shut his computer down when his phone began to ring.

He froze.

The seemingly innocent tune filled his room but Roxas felt his stomach drop, his dinner suddenly not sitting well with him. His head felt hot while the rest of him went cold, filled with a roiling mix of anger and fear all at once. Someone or something was actively messing with his emotions and, if his experiment with Zexion meant anything, possibly even his memories. It was a terrifying thought, but also enraging, because how _dare_ they. How _dare_ they toy with and manipulate him like that?

He was tempted to let the phone go to voicemail, as usual, or even turn it off altogether. Throw his phone across the room or bury under his mattress.

But then-

But then...

It would go to voicemail, like it always did. It would just leave another message. Another addition to the pile he still had yet to listen to. Another one in an already long line he’d eventually have to wade through.

He groaned as he waffled back and forth between his options. Answer now and deal with... _whatever_ was on the other side, or put it off to a later date, and for better or worse, deal with it then. And all the while, his phone continued to ring.

With a frustrated noise, Roxas finally snatched up his phone before the call could be redirected to voicemail. He answered and held it to his ear, not bothering to even speak as he waited for whatever was on the other side.

And there it was.

The soft swell of a violin. Roxas sucked in a deep breath in time with the rise of the first note.

It was the same bittersweet song from all those weeks ago. And yet it was different. It was the same melody and the same instrument but it wasn’t the same recording. There were slight variations in the music. A longer pause here, a slight change in notes there. Same song, played again, but it pulled at him still.

“I know you’re manipulating me,” he muttered to no one in particular, though there was little fire behind it. Because as much as he _knew_ the call was manipulating him somehow, it still worked. It was a balm, smoothing over all his frayed and jagged edges. It was early spring and the nights were still chilly, but Roxas suddenly felt warm. Cozy, almost.

With a small huff, he sat down on his bed, phone still pressed to his ear. His bed was pushed up against the wall, right next to a large window that overlooked his neighborhood. Roxas leaned back so he was propped up against the glass, which was cooled from the evening chill outside.

Roxas wanted to still be mad, _Tried_ to be, even. But the feeling wouldn’t come.

“Why are you even doing this?” He muttered softly, again to no one. “Like... what’s the _point_ of this?”

And then, as if someone had heard him, the music changed.

Or rather, something _about_ it changed. It was all the same notes, same melody, same instrument. And yet it shifted into something much, much more somber.

Roxas sucked in a deep breath as the music carried him down, down, down with it. What was a soothing, bittersweet melody became something heart-aching and lonely. He was reminded of the hopeless feeling the hospital call from before stirred in him.

There was something so sad and so desperate in the music, and Roxas wondered suddenly if he and Zexion had been wrong in their assumptions.

_A cry for help_ , he thought.

He and Zexion had been wary of the calls. Had even entertained the idea that the mental manipulations Roxas experienced were malicious in nature and intent. And Roxas wasn’t ready to fully discard that possibility yet, but still.

But still...

What if it was someone’s way of sending out and s.o.s. of sorts? It was a long shot, sure. And maybe Roxas was drawing conclusions and connecting dots where there were none. But listening to the call now, and being overwhelmed with the feelings of loneliness and desperation it forced upon him, he had to wonder.

Eventually, the song ended, dying on a final wavering note, and Roxas was once again left in silence. The intense feelings of isolation and sadness faded, but he was left with a bitter taste in his mouth. A melancholy that didn’t dissipate with the ending of the call.

He looked down at his phone with a frown, staring at the device as if it would — or even could — give him further answers.

Roxas took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” he said, and nodded to himself before pushing himself up off his bed. He grabbed his brainwave monitor and sat down at his laptop with both it and his phone on hand. He pulled up his own version of the Genesis Program, as well as his notes and a few blank spreadsheets. He also made sure to plug his phone into its charger to keep it from dying while he worked.

When everything was finally set up, he pulled up all the waiting messages that had been sitting on his phone for the past few weeks.

He had a moment of hesitation. Should he go grab Zexion? Rouse the sleeping man and ask him to sit in on this? Or maybe he should wait until tomorrow, when they’d both be awake and try again.

But, no. No, he didn’t want to bother Zexion now, nor did he want to wait. And, frankly, Roxas knew how much this was all starting to get under his friend’s skin. He didn’t want to worry the man but, perhaps selfishly, Roxas didn’t want to be held back either.

No, he’d do this on his own.

“Okay,” he said again. “No more wasting time.”

And with that, he hit play on the first voicemail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things will begin to move forward soon, just bear with me!  
> Thanks again to SirLadySketch for beta-ing this chapter! Pls go check out their work!♥


	8. Log 4.1

_“I can’t believe him!”_

_“Good morning to you too?”_

_“I have been trying to visit Dr, G⬛⬛⬛⬛ for weeks! And every time, he has me do some... MENIAL task and then shoos me out the door with a ‘next time!’ Do you know how I spent yesterday afternoon? Organizing his textbooks! And before that, it was helping him fix his fence, and before that it was rearranging his furniture! I don’t even know how many times I’ve helped water his damn flowers now, but- ....why are you laughing?”_

_“You... you actually went to visit him? Really??”_

_“Yes? You told me to-“_

_“I TOLD you to read his work, man! Not to go intruding on him. And you’ve been played just like everyone has!”_

_“Everyone?”_

_“Wow, you really don’t know anything about the guy, huh? C’mon, you think you’re the first to go and bother him about his research? He’s infamous for giving people the run around like that.”_

_“...oh.”_

_“That’s what you get for pestering a sick man, my dude.”_

_“He could have just turned me away.”_

_“Eh, he used to do that, but- look. I know you, and I know your intentions really were just to hear more about his work. But to him? To him, you’re just another vulture, hoping to swoop in and get in on his work, so that when he kicks the bucket you can claim it for yourself. Of course he’s gonna give you the runaround.”_

_“...”_

_“You ok, man?”_

_“I didn’t realize.... well, I guess I there’s a lot I didn’t realize. Thanks.”_

_“No problem, dude. I’m gonna go grab a coffee with Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. You wanna come?”_

_“Nah, I’m not gonna third wheel your date.”_

_“It- it’s not-!”_


	9. Tulips

_**$ea_$alt:** Is anyone having a weird reaction to the calls? Like idk feeling like you’re going kind of into a trance or smth??_

8:03 pm | 0 replies

Roxas sighed as he stared down at his phone, checking the message board one more time for any replies. So far, nothing.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he set his phone aside just as a hand clapped him on the back, effectively startling him from his sleepy daze.

“Wow... you look awful!”

Roxas lifted his gaze and gave Zack a withering look.

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, but Zack just beamed. He was dressed in more casual clothes than his work scrubs — a simple gray t-shirt and black pants — and his wild dark hair was pulled back into a somewhat contained ponytail. And just by looking at him, Roxas could tell he was in his usual cheery mood.

No one should be so chipper in the morning.

And, ok, it wasn’t _that_ early, it was 10:30 am, but Roxas was _tired._

“No problem!” the older man chirped as he looped an arm around Roxas’ shoulders and began steering Roxas away from the bench where he’d been waiting.. Towards a nearby coffee shop, he realized belatedly. “What say we get you a little caffeine first? Rough night?”

Roxas let himself be guided along, too tired to protest, and more than happy at the promise of coffee. “Eh, just... didn’t sleep much last night.”

And by that, he meant he didn’t sleep. At all.

By the time Roxas had finally finished going through all the messages left on his phone, uploading them and organizing them on his computer, and writing down extensive notes on the nature of each, it was a little after 6am. Roxas had groaned when he noticed morning light peeking in through his window, and knowing he’d already agreed to help out Zack with some project of his, resigned himself to simply not sleeping that night. Better to just push through the next couple hours than ruin his internal clock even more by trying to squeeze in three to four hours of sleep before he’d inevitably have to be up again.

Zack just laughed as they pushed their way into the cafe, and the warm smell of brewing coffee enveloped them. They made their way to the line and Zack let his arm drop from Roxas’ shoulders.

“So, what was it this time?” he asked as Roxas unsuccessfully tried to stifle another yawn. “Finally crack the code of the human brain last night? Or was it just a new video game?”

Roxas snorted but shook his head. “Neither. It was... something else,” he mumbled, not sure if he should divulge his new ‘project’ to Zack.

But, his friend’s interest was already piqued. “Oh?” Zack hummed and shot Roxas a curious look. “Do tell.”

Fortunately, Roxas was given a short reprieve as the line moved up and the barista called them to the counter.

“This one’s on me. Get what you want.” Zack said after placing his own order for a plain black coffee.

Roxas opted for the sweetest, sugary-est drink available on the menu. Zack gave him A Look, and Roxas was pretty sure he saw a little bit of the nurse’s souls die with his order of liquid diabetes.

He wasn’t even sorry.

“Anyway,” Zack said as they moved to the side to wait for their order. “You were saying? About what kept you up last night?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Roxas deliberated on how much to tell his friend. Trying to avoid the subject would only make Zack suspicious, but Roxas wasn’t sure he wanted to go into every detail. If he thought Zexion worried too much, Roxas was sure Zack would destroy his phone himself at the mere mention that the calls were, in fact, altering Roxas’ neuro waves.

A healthy middle ground was in order.

So, he explained that he’d been getting strange messages on his phone for the past couple months. How he was determined to figure out where they were coming from. He made sure to leave out the more... worrisome aspects, like said effects on his own brain waves. And memory, apparently.

“You latch on to some strange obsessions sometimes,” Zack said, chuckling. “What’s got you so curious about these messages? You know they’re probably just spam, right? Or a scam. I read about how someone out there is making money off calling thousands of random people and whatnot. You’re probably better off blocking them or changing your number.”

Roxas suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the all too familiar advice. “I know, I know. But hey, wouldn’t it be cool if I figured it out? Maybe I could get rich off of finding out who’s behind the spam calls that harass people night and day.”

“Or you could waste a lot of time. But hey, it’s your time to waste I suppose!” Zack ribbed him playfully before stepping back up to the counter to grab their drinks when they were ready.

Leaving the coffee shop, Roxas took a sip of his sugary concoction and immediately felt his spirits begin to lift. He groaned in satisfaction as he drank.

Next to him, Zack just shook his head. “Drink that too fast and you’ll make yourself sick.”

“I’ll be fine. Worse comes to worst I have a registered nurse with me.”

Zack snorted. “If you think I’m gonna take care of you when you get sick off sugary drinks, you’re mistaken my friend. I could call your mom and tell her that her darling boy is ill and needs some TLC, though.”

Roxas narrowed his eyes. “We are _so_ not friends.”

Zack just laughed and swung an arm around Roxas’ shoulders again, and steered him off in a new direction.

“Anyway,” Roxas said, still too tied to shake his friend off. “Where are we going? You still haven’t told me what you need help with.”

“You’ll see. You’ll see,” was all Zack offered in return.

Ten minutes and a few turns later, and the two found themselves standing in front of a small flower shop, tucked away in a part of town Roxas had never ventured to before.

Zack led him inside, and a small bell tinkled above to announce their arrival. The place was filled with shelves and shelves of flowers, and Roxas breathed in the sweet aroma deeply. A teen girl with mousy brown hair greeted them from behind the counter and Zack returned it with a small wave, before he moved on to get a closer look at the arrangements.

“So...” Roxas finally ventured as he trailed behind the man. “What are we doing here? Wait. You don’t have a new girlfriend, do you?” He asked, shooting his friend a suspicious glance.

Zack grinned, but shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ like that. Truth is, I’ve been thinking... I’d like to do something nice for some of the longer-term residents at the hospital. The ones who have been, or will be there for a long time, ya know?”

“Oh. Well... that’s nice of you. Why do you need my help?”

Zack hummed as he looked over a bouquet of all pink flowers. “Kinda figured you’d know something about... flowers and stuff. More than me, anyway.”

“What?” Roxas snorted. “Why would I know anything about flowers?”

Zack seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged. “Hmm, dunno. Guess... I just thought you might have _some_ plant knowledge in that big brain of yours.” He flashed Roxas a grin. “So? What do you think? Help me find some flowers for my patients, Rox!”

Roxas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Alright, alright. Umm...” he trailed off as he glanced around, looking for any flowers that might catch his eye. They were all bright and colorful, arranged in huge mixed bouquets accented with ribbons, and placed in vases by color and type to be used in custom orders.

Beautiful as they were, Roxas thought they all started to look the same after awhile.

He was about to tell Zack to just pick something that looked nice, or to ask one of the female nurses he worked with to help him instead, when his eyes landed on a shelf of colorful bulb-like flowers, and a thought struck him.

“Tulips.”

“Hmm?” Zack glanced back down at his friend from where he’d be poking at a bouquet of red roses. “What was that?”

“Tulips,” Roxas repeated, taking a step closer to the display. He spoke slowly as the thoughts drifted back to him one by one. “Yellow ones, they... they mean hope. And pink ones. Pink ones mean, ah... friendship and caring. Good wishes.”

“That’s perfect!” Zack chirped and stepped up to join Roxas at the display of tulips. He ruffled the blonde’s hair and grinned. “See? I knew you had to have some kinda’ of flower knowledge in there!”

Roxas huffed our a small laugh and batted his friend’s hand away. “Yeah I... guess I must have read about them somewhere and just... forgot.”

“Well, they’re perfect.” Zack nodded, then turned and swiftly made his way back to the register with an ‘excuse me, miss!’

Roxas looked back at the display of tulips with a pensive look. But they offered up no further forgotten knowledge, so after a moment of staring, Roxas turned and joined his friend up at the front counter.

In the end, Zack bought six small bouquets. Nothing extravagant or overly fancy. Just a collection of about five tulips each, in a mix of pink and yellow.

Small as they were, Roxas could see how they might brighten up a gloomy hospital room.

They hadn’t been exactly cheap, but Zack didn’t seem to mind.

_“I only ever spend money on my bike anyway. I’m happy to do this for people who need it,”_ he’d said.

Roxas helped him carry the flowers back to the hospital, each of them carefully maneuvering a cardboard box filled with three bouquets each on the train. Zack wasn’t working that day, but proclaimed it was _“Even better that way because then his visit would be a surprise!”_

He was a good nurse.

“There you go.” Roxas said as he set his box down at the front counter of the hospital. Zack and another nurse would be taking the flowers from there, placing them in vases with water and taking them to the designated patients.

Having set his own box down, Zack turned and clapped Roxas on the back. “Thanks for your help, little dude! Next time I need to pick up flowers I’ll make sure to ask for your help again. Now, get home and get some sleep, yeah? You still look a little like death warmed over.”

“Yeah yeah...” Roxas rolled his eyes, still smiling. “I’ll see ya around.” He waved to his friend and a couple of the other nurses behind the counter, before making his way back outside to start the journey back home. He grabbed a sandwich on the way and sleepily nibbled on it as he rode the train back to his and Zexion’s little flat. It was a struggle just to keep his eyes open as he sat in the quiet train car.

It was a quarter to one when Roxas walked through the front door, and the apartment was quiet. Whether Zexion was still asleep or had gone out remained to be seen.

Roxas beelined for the couch and let himself collapse onto it. He yawned and let his eyes close for just a minute.

And the next thing he knew, someone was gently shaking him awake.

Roxas groaned and swatted away whoever it was before slowly opening his eyes. He blinked a few times and looked up blearily to see Zexion standing above him. The man was eating a bowl of cereal and had apparently been nudging Roxas with his foot.

“Hate to wake you, but if you sleep much longer you’re gonna have a hard time going to bed tonight and getting up for class tomorrow. Also, it looked like your arm was gonna fall asleep in that position. If it hasn’t already.”

It had.

Roxas grimaced as he moved the dead appendage and sparks flew up the otherwise numb limb. “What time is it?” He yawned and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with the hand that was still fully functioning.

“Almost five.” Zexion said, taking another bite of cereal. “Weren’t you supposed to meet Zack today?”

“I already did.” Roxas slowly got up and shuffled into the kitchen. Zexion was clearly having an early dinner of cereal, and Roxas figured he’d do that same. He’d only eaten half of his sandwich and realized now that he left the other half on the train. “Got home just before one and I guess I fell asleep.”

“Stay up late?” Zexion asked from the entrance to the kitchen.

“Yeah, I...” Roxas paused. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Zexion he’d gone ahead and listened to all the messages. Alone. Unsupervised.

“I... stayed up trying to find more information online. I was uh, hoping someone would respond to the message board or I’d, like, be able to find another site talking about the calls.” He poured himself a bowl of cereal and finally risked a look at his roommate.

Zexion seemed to buy it, because he just nodded and continued to munch on his sugary dinner. “Any luck?”

“Oh uh, no.” Roxas shook his head. “I mean, i haven’t checked the message board since this morning, but no one had responded by then. I’ll check again in a bit.”

Zexion hummed, and finished the last bit of cereal before putting his empty bowl in the sink. He then turned to make his way back into the living room. “What did Zack want?” he asked as he sank down onto the couch.

Roxas followed, climbing into his own spot with his food. He explained the day’s events in between bites, while Zexion booted up their shared game system. Their conversation shifted from one topic to the next as they settled into what was their usual Sunday evening routine; Zexion engrossed in some game, while Roxas watched and gave his commentary or messed around on his phone.

And speaking of his phone, Roxas pulled his out to see if anyone had responded to his post on the message board.

They had.

**_$ea_$alt:_ ** _Is anyone having a weird reaction to the calls? Like idk feeling like you’re going kind of into a trance or smth??_

_**hyperi0n:** lol wut like ur hypnotized or somethin?? stop watchin so many lame sci-fi movies_

_**8rotherhood:** nope hasn’t happen 2 me_

_**☆seashell14☆:** Don’t be rude, hyperi0n, it was just a question._

_**hyperi0n:** a dumb 1_

_Asshole,_ Roxas thought, with a roll of his eyes before reading the rest of the replies.

_**_Stormfall_:** Nope, can’t say that’s happened to me._

_**☆seashell14☆:** ANYWAY... I cant say Ive had any kind of adverse effects like that $ea_$alt. Has that happened to you?_

Roxas sighed. It didn’t look like anyone shared his strange experiences with the calls. And based on their reactions, it was probably best to keep that information to himself.

_**$ea_$alt:** Nevermind, forget I asked lol. Thnx anyway_

He spent the next few minutes scrolling through the forum some more — in between watching Zexion’s progress in the game — looking for any new information anyone else might have brought up about the strange calls.

Eventually, he set his phone down and stretched, groaning as his back gave a satisfying pop.

“I think I’m gonna call it an early night,” he said, standing up from his spot on the couch. Zexion grunted his response, still engrossed in his game. Roxas grabbed his phone and retreated to his room with a ‘don’t stay up to late!’

Truth was, while he _did_ plan to sleep early, he also wanted to go over his notes from the night before, because he had managed to go through every single message on his own.

It hadn’t been an easy task.

There were, of course, more messages that didn’t affect him, and didn’t seem to be of any importance, like the first two from the previous day. One was even a repeat of the train station message.

While nothing seemed terribly special about them, Roxas wasn’t about to shrug them off completely. He noted down, in great detail, what each of the messages entailed and the date and time it came in.

The other messages were harder to get through.

There were repeats of previous voicemails. The hospital. The clock tower. The horrible air raid siren. Interestingly, while Roxas called them repeats, they weren’t exact copies. Much like the violin message from the night before, while they held the same contents, they weren’t exact replicas of each other. Like a movie set rehearsing the same scene twice, they varied slightly in their details.

And Roxas knew they weren’t exactly the same, because he went through the trouble of listening to the originals and comparing the two. Which was how he found out that, once listened to, the messages wouldn’t have any more unusual emotional effects on him. Upon a second listen, it was as though they were merely normal messages, and Roxas was free to replay them time and time again without issue.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

On one hand, it was a relief to be able to replay them and dissect their contents without the emotional barrage each time.

On the other, it was disconcerting. Why _didn’t_ they have anymore effect on him? Had they permanently altered his brain somehow on his first listen, and now their job was ‘done’, so to speak?

He didn’t have answers for that. Best he could do was just jot it down in his notes with everything else.

Finally, then there were the other messages. He vaguely recognized a couple, based on the descriptions other users had mentioned in the forums. But most were new.

There was the one that sounded like an old radio. It was a little staticky and set to a station that played old jazz. A window was open, as Roxas could hear the distinct sounds of birds chirping and a wind chime tinkling in the breeze.

In his notes, Roxas described the nostalgic feelings it left him with. So similar to the violin, though not quite as lonely.

Another, oddly enough, was what sounded like an instructional video on the care of plants. The basics of watering, and sunlight, and fertilizer. The difference between full sun and shade plants, and how often certain types needed water.

A strange sense of desperation overcame him as he listened to tips on checking the leaves on a plant for signs of over-watering. The kind of obsessed panic to finish some otherwise unimportant task. It struck him just how much it contrasted with the otherwise mundane aspect of plant care.

He listened to that one in particular multiple times, to see if there was any information on tulips, or the language of flowers in there. Roxas though maybe that’s where he’d garnered that information for Zack. But no, the message was purely on the basics of plant care, not their meaning beyond that.

Another was what sounded like an old movie. Something black and white possibly, just based on the dialogue and music. Film noir, perhaps, though Roxas wasn’t versed enough in film to place it. Hell, he barely got out to see current movies, much less old ones.

The variety of messages went on and on, and Roxas went through the trouble of listening to each one, and taking detailed notes of its contents and the effect they had on him.

He painstakingly uploaded each voicemail to his laptop and sorted them into files, dated and paired with their corresponding notations. Silly as it was, he even scanned them all for viruses. He knew at that point he was probably being paranoid, and that there was no way to transmit a virus via voicemail, but it made him feel better to do it anyway.

He then went through the list of repeated messages to check them for patterns. The hospital and the clock tower showed up the most: he heard the hospital message five times, and the clock tower six.

That detail struck him as odd, though he didn’t exactly know what to do with that information.

Roxas was double-checking the notes he’d taken the night before with what people were reporting on the message board when he noticed he had a new notification.

Up in the right hand corner of the site, next to his username, a mail icon was blinking red. Someone had sent him a direct message.

Curiously, he clicked on the little blinking notification.

_**☆seashell14☆:** hey! sorry to bother you but I wanted to ask you about your post_

_**☆seashell14☆:** are you really having liek... a trance effect from the calls?_

_**☆seashell14☆:** im not gonna make fun of you I promise!! I just wanna know_

Roxas read over their messages a few times, debating if he should divulge his experiences to them. After some deliberating, he responded.

_**$ea_$alt:** yeah it’s smth like that._

_**$ea_$alt:** I was hoping someone else was having something similar_

_**$ea_$alt:** I mean not that I want someone else to go thru that but like... I was hoping there’d be someone I could talk about it to??_

_**☆seashell14☆:** oh you responded! :)_

_**☆seashell14☆:** well i haven’t experienced anythig like that but you can totally talk to me about it!_

_**☆seashell14☆:** like what do you mean a trance like state? is it when you listen to the calls? what happens??_

Roxas couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at this lips. This person seemed nice enough. And genuinely interested in what he had to say.

So, deciding to put his faith in them, Roxas gave _☆seashell14☆_ the condensed version of events and what the calls did to him. He spared some details, both for time as well as to protect his own identity. But he gave enough for his new companion to get a general idea of what was going on.

_**☆seashell14☆:** wild..._

_**☆seashell14☆:** yeah this is the first ive heard of anything like that happening, and ive been on this board for months now_

_**☆seashell14☆:** do you think it could start happening to the rest of us?_

_**$ea_$alt:** idk... it seems unlikely? it happened to me immediately. or at least as soon as the messages changed from being static or hold music. If it hasn’t happened to you already I doubt it will?_

_**$ea_$alt:** I hope not at least... I still don’t know exactly what I’m dealing with here_

_**☆seashell14☆:** hmm well keep me updated!_

_**$ea_$alt:** will do!_

Roxas smiled to himself. He appreciated how much Zexion and Zack cared for him, but it was refreshing to tell someone about the calls and not have their immediate reaction be to tell him to ‘be careful' or have his idea dismissed.

Eventually, Roxas finished checking over his work and the newest posts on the forum. He’d gleaned nothing new, but it was worth the look.

With a sigh, he shut down his laptop and went about getting ready for bed. He had class in the morning and really _did_ need to catch up on his sleep. He could only imagine the lecture he’d get from his mother if she knew about his sleeping habits. It was a thought that made him grimace.

After changing into his nightclothes and brushing his teeth, Roxas turned off the overhead light. The globe-shaped lamp by his bed kept the room lit, albeit in a softer, blue glow. Its spinning fish decals and various hues of blue gave the room an almost under water feel.

Roxas shuffled over to his bed, plugged his phone into its charger, and climbed under the blankets.

Unable to help himself, he looked at his phone again, scrolling through the message board as well as making a few more scant notes to himself about the calls. Eventually, sleep called, and he drifted off, phone still in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters are slowly getting longer from here, and I have a bit of a fun one next time! I hope things haven't been too meandering so far. I promise this is all going somewhere!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this so far!  
> And thanks again to SirLadySketch for being my wonderful beta reader! Please go check out their work, it's so good!


	10. Log 5.1

_“Alright, that should be the last of them! I watered the azaleas, daffodils, and the purple hyacinths. I also finished re-potting the pink rose bush into its new container. Should have a lot more room to grow now.”_

_“Thank you again for your help! Oh but it’s gotten late an-“_

_“Is there anything else you need help with for tonight?”_

_“I... oh, I... no I don’t believe so.”_

_“Alright. You must be getting tired then! I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair.”_

_“...”_

_“I’ll swing by some other time to help with anything. If you want. Have a good evening Dr. G⬛⬛⬛⬛.”_

_“...You’re really not gonna ask, are you?”_

_“I’m sorry?”_

_“About my work. You... you used to try to talk about it every time, but these past couple weeks...”_

_“Ah, yeah... look. I owe you an apology. I barged into your life wanting to talk about your work and research with no consideration to how you might feel about it or... what else you might have going on in your life. And, well, I’m sorry about that, I guess.”_

_“And, you kept coming around to help because..?”_

_“Felt like I kinda owed it to you, as an apology. ‘Sides, I figured you could use some help around here that didn’t have any kind of expectation behind it.”_

_“...”_

_“Anyway, like I said, I’ll get outta your hair and swing by another time.”_

_“...”_

_“See ya later, Dr G-“_

_“Wait.”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“I... have something else I need help with. Before you go.”_

_“Sure, what is it?”_

_“I... don’t cook for myself much anymore, but I was going to try to make something tonight. Help me get everything prepared and... I can feed you as thanks. Give you some leftovers and whatever. Ok?”_

_“Sure. I’d be happy to help. Where should we start?”_


	11. Empty Spaces

_Soft hands caressed his face._

_Trailed down his cheek and brushed hair behind his ears. Deft fingers traced his hairline and tickled the back of his neck. Warm and tender and reverent in their touch._

_Warm breath, a sigh, ghosted over his skin, soft and content as he himself felt. The heat sent a shiver down his spine and made him curl his toes in delight._

_He snuggled into his warm blankets further, sinking into their plush fabric with his own contented sigh._

_And he sank. And sank._

_Till he was falling through, as if his own mattress were quicksand. His blankets wrapped around him tightly._

_Tight and suffocating, he kicked and struggled to crawl free._

_He was suffocated, struggling to breath, his own panicked breaths and cries muffled by the dense fabric tomb. His ears began to ring._

_He kicked, and a foot broke free of the fabric beneath him. There was nothing but air and, horrified, he realized his tomb was also the only thing preventing him from free falling._

_Panicked, he kicked and scrambled, desperate to find purchase and claw his way up and out of the cocoon he was in. His breaths were ragged, and the ringing in his ears grew louder, more shrill._

_And then it was no longer ringing, but an erratic beep beep beep that pulsed in time with his own panicked heart._

_His hands grasped and clawed and ripped at the fabric. But he only felt himself slip further. One leg, then the other, then his whole bottom half sliding into the void below._

_And then_

_Mercifully_

_Another hand shot out, warm and soft as it grabbed ahold of his. He would have sobbed with relief had he been able to make a sound._

_The hand pulled, and for a moment he believed he’d be free of the cocoon and safe from the endless expanse below._

_But the grip wasn’t strong enough. He was too heavy and the other too weak. His heart plummeted when he realized the hand was not there to save him. Even if the other person wanted. The best they could do was provide comfort before the fall._

_And fall he did._

_One hand slipped from the other and he tumbled out of the tomb of fabric in a rush. The erratic beeping became the toll of a bell, and as he plummeted he felt his limbs buzz. They tingled and stung, starting from the tips of his fingers and toes, and moving his limbs. The tingling turned to numbness and soon, the numbness took over his whole being._

_And he was nothing._

Roxas awoke with a start.

He woke up kicking and thrashing and nearly fell off his bed for his trouble. His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing was ragged and panicked. He looked around wildly, calming only once he realized he was safe in his own room.

He was still tangled in his blankets though, which he did _not_ like, so Roxas promptly threw them off. He rubbed a hand down his face, and let out a tired sigh.

When he pulled his hand away, there was blood smeared across his palm. Not much, but enough to get his attention. A look at his pillow revealed more of the red liquid smudged into his pillowcase. Roxas sniffled and scrunched up his face, and felt a little more blood drip down his chin.

His nose was bleeding.

Roxas figured he must have hit his nose while thrashing and trying to escape the confines of his blanket. And no doubt he had just smeared it across his face.

He groaned and risked a glance at the clock, grimacing when he saw he had less than five minutes until his alarm would go off.

Deciding it was no use going back to sleep, and he needed to clean himself up anyway, Roxas reluctantly crawled out of bed and resigned himself to the day.

_**$ea_$alt:** i had a weird dream the other night_

_**☆seashell14☆:** o yeah?_

_**$ea_$alt:** yeah. Sunday night_

Tuesday evening at the Institute, Roxas tapped away on his phone while he meandered down the hall towards the elevators, ready to leave for the day.

Between work and classes, it had been a busy week even two days in, and Roxas hadn't had much time or energy to mull over events from the weekend.

The strange dream did linger in the back of his mind, however, and now that he was officially clocked out for the day, he figured he should tell his new internet friend about it. He gave them a quick summary of what happened, and how it’d had culminated with him waking up with a nosebleed of all things.

_**☆seashell14☆:** oh yeah that does sound weird. dreams are wild lol_

_**$ea_$alt:** yeah... I think it has something to do with the calls tho. like they made me have that dream_

**_☆seashell14☆:_ ** _why do you think that?_

_**$ea_$alt:** well it had stuff from the call in it. it’s gotta be because of the calls_

_**☆seashell14☆:** well sure, you prolly did have that dream cause of the calls but like... it was probably just your brain reacting to them? I dream about work and stuff around me a lot. everyone does_

Roxas frowned down at his phone as he stepped into the elevator. He hit the button for the bottom floor and typed away as he began the slow descent.

_**$ea_$alt:** no it’s gotta be more than that_

_**☆seashell14☆:** everyone dreams about things in their life tho. Esp when theyre stressed._

_**☆seashell14☆:** ya know, my mom used to say dreams are like you brain rewinding everything that happened to you that day, so that its refreshed in the morning. like a VHS tape!_

Roxas snorted as he read the message. The doors to the elevator opened and he stepped out into the Institute’s large front atrium.

**$ea_$alt:** you had vhs tapes as a kid?

**☆seashell14☆:** of course! Didnt you?

**$ea_$alt:** ahgjbnlks no!?! they’re ancient!!!

**☆seashell14☆:** ANYWAY. again, why do you think your dream is somethin special beyond just... your brain processing stuff?

Roxas frowned again. Why did he think that? He just... _knew._ Something in his gut told him. He began to type, then paused. He erased his words, started anew, then stopped again.

Why _did_ he think there was something suspicious about the dream?

He passed by Arnold and gave the droid his usual goodbye. He got the usual response, and was out the door.

He skidded to a stop at the top of the Institute’s steps as a realization hit him.

Slowly, he typed out his response.

**$ea_$alt:** I don’t dream.

**☆seashell14☆:** what like, never?

**$ea_$alt:** never. Not consciously at least. Not in ways i can ever remember

Why had he never noticed before? All his years of studying and working with the human brain, and he’d never noticed — not even once — that he didn’t remember his own dreams like other people did. All his years of sleep had been blissfully blank.

Thinking back, the first dream he could ever remember having was the nightmare he’d had after receiving the first unnerving message. The one with the strange air raid siren.

It, too, was obviously connected to the calls.

The only two dreams — or nightmares, really — that Roxas could ever remember having were directly linked to the calls. That couldn’t be mere coincidence, could it? Surely he wasn’t over thinking this.

Roxas was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind him.

Someone shoved past him, colliding with his shoulder on the way. Roxas staggered and fumbled to catch his phone before it fell from his hands and down the stairs of the Institute’s entrance.

“Move it or lose it, _Blondie!_ ”

Roxas repressed a long-suffering sigh as Seifer marched past him, arrogant (and annoying) as ever.

“You’re blond too, genius,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes.

That got the man to stop, and Roxas had to hide his grimace. That certainly hadn’t been his desired result.

Seifer turned his full attention on Roxas, peering up at him from the few steps he had already walked down.

He was blonde haired and blue-eyed, much like Roxas himself, although his features were more chiseled than Roxas’ own perpetual baby face. He was handsome — Roxas begrudgingly admitted — even with the perfect scar cutting its way between Seifer’s eyes. He was just a few years older and a few inches taller than Roxas, but Seifer lorded both facts over him like they were some great achievement

Flanked on his sides were Seifer’s two usual companions: a quiet woman named Fuu, and a meek young man who went by Vivi, although Roxas was never sure if that was his real name or not. Hell, Roxas was barely sure what he looked like, with the way Vivi kept the hood of his sweater up, obscuring his face at all times.

They were both people of few words, which was only fair since their self-appointed leader talked loud and long enough for all three of them.

Seifer’s lip curled as he looked Roxas up and down, but it soon twisted into a smirk and he huffed out a laugh. “I see your head’s in the clouds as usual, Blondie. No wonder you never seem to get work done around here.”

“Yeah, as if _you’re_ making huge leaps and bounds in your department,” Roxas sighed.

“Wrong,” Fuu interjected, with her usual minimal responses.

“Yeah! _Some_ of us actually have important stuff to get done around here! Even the higher ups have noticed!!” Seifer added. He walked back up the stairs so he could stand beside Roxas and look down on him.

Roxas rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, tilting his head back so he could look down his nose at the taller man. “Yeah, sure, as if the higher ups want any help from us lowly bottom level workers. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The Institute itself was a vertically built building. One of the tallest in the city, it towered over the buildings around it.

Not that most employees got the view. Rather than being sectioned into departments, employees were sectioned into ranks of seniority and the projects that came with said ranks. The higher someone’s seniority, the more important — and secretive — the projects they were assigned to, and the higher in the building the climbed.

If Roxas had to guess, he’s estimate the building to be roughly eighty to ninety floors. He couldn’t be sure, however, as the common elevator only went up to sixty. Any higher required use of a special, designated lift. Which of course, required a special, designated keycard.

Roxas, being the lowly intern that he was, worked in the mechanical engineering department down on the eighth floor. And the only reason he wasn’t lower was because most floors beneath that were for the administrative offices.

Seifer worked on the tenth. Another thing he lorded over Roxas, although Roxas wasn’t sure it meant anything since he didn’t think there even _was_ a communications department lower than that.

Seifer just crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug. “No flattery needed. We’re doing work on Project Mi'ihen.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of work?” Roxas asked, doing his best to mask his suspicion. Project Mi'ihen was the big mystery around the Institute. Everyone was pulling at least a little weight, but most knew next to nothing about it. Roxas was skeptical Seifer and his crew had any big part in it.

Still looking smug, Seifer replied, “We’ve been trusted with running files back and forth between the thirtieth floor and the lower levels all week!”

Roxas tried his best to suppress his laugh, but it still came out as an ugly snort anyway. He’d never been up higher than the fifteenth floor, but he was certain the thirtieth floor wasn’t even where the project was being held. The brag was laughable.

“Glorified delivery grunts, then?” He smirked. “Please, we’ve all been doing grunt work like that. You get to take a field trip up to the thirtieth floor. Ooooh! Big deal.”

“Oh yeah?” Seifer uncrossed his arms, his smirk gone and firmly replaced by an irritated frown. “It’s more than you’re doing, punk!”

If Roxas was a wiser man, he’d have chosen to walk away then. But he was not, and Seifer was a constant pain in his ass, so he couldn’t help but return the biting remarks when given the chance.

“I guess that’s why work on your comm device project has stagnated. Too busy running errands for the higher ups! And here I was worried you were just incompetent!”

Seifer’s frowned deepened into a full scowl, and he took a step closer to Roxas. “Big words comin’ from you, punk!” He emphasized his point by roughly poking Roxas in the chest.

Roxas opened his mouth to respond, but next to them Fuu cleared her throat, effectively interrupting the feuding men. Roxas noticed then that they had attracted a few curious stares from other Institute employees as they exited the building. And as much as Roxas would revel in getting to deck Seifer, it would be a costly action to take, and he wasn’t about to lose his coveted internship for it.

It seemed Seifer had the same thought.

“ _Whatever_ ,” the taller man ground out, and stepped back. “Appreciate your cushy part time job, rookie. Be prepared to _actually_ work like the rest of us when you get hired full time. _If_ you get hired full time.” Seifer shot him one last sneer, before he turned and stalked down the stairs, with Fuu and Vivi in tow.

“Asshole,” Roxas muttered and waited for the trio to get far enough away before he began his own descent. “Who does he think he is?”

Seifer has been a thorn in Roxas’ side since the moment he stepped through the Institute’s doors. Roxas never knew exactly _why_ the older man had it in for him, but the two were like oil and water whenever they had to interact. At first, Roxas had entertained the idea that Seifer was jealous of Roxas’ internship at the Institute, where Seifer himself had to graduate and apply twice before being offered his position. But Zexion was in the same boat as Roxas and never received the man’s ire, so Roxas figured they were just natural enemies like that.

And Roxas would be lying if he said he didn’t take pleasure in dishing out his own snide remarks to get under Seifer’s skin. Being the better man was overrated when it was so satisfying to rile him up.

“He thinks he’s _sooo_ great!” Roxas muttered under his breath, already thinking of ways he could get back at the man, most of which would never come to fruition. As much as Roxas wished he could hide rotten eggs in Seifer’s workstation, that could get him suspended at best.

So caught up in his grumbling and brooding, Roxas didn’t even notice as he stalked right past the train station until he was a good couple blocks away. He stopped only when he found himself in front of a bakery he recognized just well enough to know he had walked way, way too far.

Groaning, Roxas debated if he should trek back to the station, or just suck it up and hike the rest of the way home. In the end, he decided on walking. Not because it was faster — it wasn’t. But because he was stubborn and didn’t want to turn around, and because he figured he could use the exercise and sunlight anyway.

Besides, it was a nice day. The weather was nice, and the evening sun had cast the entire city in a warm, orange glow.

Phone still in hand, Roxas typed out a message to Zexion, letting the man know he’d be a little late coming home. He hit send, and suddenly, his phone was ringing.

Roxas saw it was an unknown number, and he was hit with a simultaneous rush of dread and excitement. He wavered only a moment, weighing his options, before he accepted the call and held it to his ear. Impulsive, perhaps, given what some of the messages could do to him. But he was too curious to care.

There was the usual beat of silence, before cheery music filtered through the speaker.

“Welcome!” came a young girl’s voice. “Welcome to the mystery minute! Where we talk about all the strange mysteries surrounding our beloved town!”

Roxas’ lips quirked into a small smile. The cheap music, audio quality, and youth in the girl’s voice made it sound like some kind of production put together by some teens. A school project, or possibly just something done for fun.

“Today,” the girl continued, “we’re going to list the city’s top five mysterious wonders! These are the strangest, the spookiest, the most unsolv-iest mysterious we’ve encountered!”

Roxas chuckled softly as he listened to the quirky message. So far, it had no unnatural effect on him, and was rather entertaining. It could certainly improve his walk home.

“Mystery number one: Gravity Hill! Did you know there’s a strange hill on the west side of town? It’s the steep road that leads down to the beach. Rumors say that if you stand at the bottom of the hill and set a round object — like a ball — down in the middle of the road, it will begin to roll uphill! It’s true! I _am_ contractually obligated to warn you not to do this when traffic is coming.”

Roxas listened attentively to the somewhat goofy message as he meandered along the city streets. He easily moved in an out of the throngs of people also making their way home for the evening.

“Mystery two; The Never Empty Vending Machine! Some say there’s an old vending machine down in the old south side that never goes empty. I know that doesn’t sound impressive folks, but! No one is ever seen servicing the machine!” The girl’s voice took on a slight waiver to indicate just how spooky an event this was. 

“It’s an old, old machine and no one even knows the brand of it anymore. But it never runs out of drinks, even though no one ever comes to refill it! Don’t think that means you’ll get an endless supply of your favorite soda though. The drinks that come out are always completely random! One source even claims to have gotten a limited edition soda flavor that hasn’t been made in years! How mysterious!”

Roxas couldn’t help but laugh. Strange as it was, the message was fun. Goofy and lighted-hearted, and completely unique from any call he’d received yet. He almost wondered if it wasn’t connected to the rest at all, and was simply a random broadcast or wrong number he’d gotten or something.

“Now, here’s where it gets real weird, folks. Mystery number three; The Shadow in the Tunnels! Ooooh!” Admittedly, that one piqued Roxas’ interest. 

“Some say there’s a spooky shadow person living in the tunnels beneath the city! No one’s ever gotten a good look at them, often seeing only their shadow from a distance! If you try to get close, they’ll run and lead you on a wild chase through the tunnels! And just when you think you have them cornered, you’ll suddenly be right back where you started, and the shadow will be gone! Again, I am obligated to warn you not to go running around in the underground tunnels.

“Next up, we have mystery number four; The Ghost Train! That’s right folks, we have our very own spooky ghost train in town! You’ll never catch this train at the stations or see it running along the regular rails. Most would say it doesn’t even exist! But those in the know say that if you go to Sunset Hill at — you guessed it — sunset, you can catch a glimpse of this mysterious train chugging along its own ghost rails!”

_Sunset Hill sounds familiar,_ Roxas thought, though for the life of him he couldn’t place where he’d heard the name.

“Finally, we have mystery number five! This one’s a real doozy folks, and while it’s not _technically_ in our city, it’s connected. It’s the Mystery of the Hidden City! That’s right, there is an entire hidden ghost town right outside our own beloved home!” 

The hostess paused to play a dramatic jingle. “But what does that have to do with our city, you wonder? Well, I’ll tell ya! They say the ghost town is out to the east, and can only be found when the sun sets in the west. You have to follow the loooong shadow cast by the Institute to find it!”

That gave Roxas pause. Mention of The Institute proved this call was local, and it called into question if the others were as well.

“Leave the city in the early evening and take the road east, following the shadow of the Institute. At the veeeery tip of the shadow, you’ll find the ghost town! Or so the rumors say.” Another trill of spooky music played over the phone speaker. “And that completes our list of our top five mysteries! Can any of you sleuthers figure out the secret behind these spooky urban legends? Or will they remain unsolved forever? Join us next time for when we have a one-on-one talk with a man claiming to have seen Bigfoot in the flesh!”

A little jingle played the show out after the host said her goodbye. Roxas chuckled softly as he listened to the call slowly fade. That has certainly more entertaining and enjoyable than the other calls he’d received recently. It was intriguing though, that it was apparently a local call. It made him wonder if the others had been local as well, or if this one was completely unrelated to the mystery messages. Maybe he should find this ‘Mystery Minute’ program and report the calls to them.

_“Have you seen the empty spaces?”_

Roxas’ heart leapt into his throat as the rushed whisper hissed through his phone speaker. His steps halted and he froze in the middle of the sidewalk.

_”Have you seen them?”_

The voice sent a cold shiver down his spine, and his hand trembled where it pressed his phone against his ear.

_”They’re all around, but nobody notices.”_

Slowly, compelled by something beyond his knowing, Roxas turned to his left. He’d stopped right in front of a small street that terminated at the much larger one he was currently on. It was nondescript and tucked in between buildings, with a brick archway over be entrance.

Behind him, the sun dipped down to the horizon, casting Roxas’ long shadow down the framed entrance.

As familiar as he was with this part of town, Roxas couldn’t say he recalled ever passing by the little back street before. And as busy as the area was, with people going about their evening routines after work, no one seemed to be coming or going from that direction.

_“They’re empty. So empty. And no one notices. I wonder why...”_ The voice hissed out its last remark, before the line cut out.

Roxas remained rooted in the spot, staring at the quiet street dressed partway in shadow.

Finally, more out of compulsion than curiosity, Roxas turned fully and stepped off the main road and toward the little street. He hovered at its entrance, right beneath the archway. He almost expected to feel.... _something_ as he passed under it, but he didn’t. A few steps in and he stopped to look back, as if making sure the road behind him hadn’t suddenly disappeared or something.

It hadn’t. But the people passing by didn’t spare him a single glance. Gripping his phone tightly, as if it would do him any good, Roxas ventured further down the narrow road.

At a glance, it was like any other backstreet around town. Narrow, just big enough for a single vehicle maybe, but best suited for pedestrians and bikes. The buildings were all crammed together tightly, with shops and cafes lining the bottom floors beneath what Roxas could only assume were a mix of offices and apartments. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

But it was so empty. So quiet.

Despite the hour and the usual after-work hustle and bustle, no one was around. Unlike the busy main road, Roxas found himself completely alone. Sure, everything _looked_ lived in; lights were on. Fresh, blooming flowers sat in planters and along window sills. Windows were even open to let in the warm evening air, and half empty cups sat on tables outside the few cafes.

But no one was around. It was as though they’d all cleared out just moments before, and left everything as it was.

As Roxas walked further down the narrow, winding street, he noticed just how quiet it all was. Unnaturally so.

Despite the busy main road being less than a block away, Roxas couldn’t hear it at all. His own footsteps were the loudest thing around, and even they seemed oddly muffled. The wind didn’t seem to blow, and everything sat deathly still, as though the air itself feared making too much noise.

Finally, Roxas came to a stop and looked around. He was so alone.

_The empty places_ echoed in his mind, and in that moment he understood what that meant. Despite how lived in everything _looked_ , this place was _hollow_.

Mustering up his courage, Roxas cleared his throat and called out a weak, “Hello?”

All was silent for a moment.

Then, in a way he could only describe as reality snapping into place, like a plucked guitar string or a final, satisfying puzzle piece snapping into place, the street came to life.

Roxas blinked, and when his eyes opened a split second later, he was standing in the middle of the same back street, now bustling with activity.

Noise flooded his ears, startlingly loud compared to the muffled silence he’d just been in. People wove in and out around him, busy going home or carrying groceries, or herding their small children from school. They sat at the cafes talking and laughing, and music filtered out through open windows and doors that swung open to allow patrons entrance. The wind blew, lightly ruffling roxas’ hair and blowing through the leaves of bushes and potted plants.

Roxas nearly stumbled, as he felt jolted by the sudden change. He looked around frantically, taking in the suddenly populated and oh-so normal looking street. A few people even looked back, eyebrows raised as they took in his ruffled appearance.

Roxas took a trembling, shaky breath in. What had just happened? Had he imagined that?

He tried to reason with himself what he’d just seen. He was sure, so _sure_ the street had been empty. It had been!

But... that was impossible. Logically, he knew that. There was no way the street had been so unnaturally empty, only to be so populated in the literal blink of an eye.

Had he been hallucinating? Had he wandered down a perfectly busy street, only to see it as empty? Roxas had always been logical, and thought he had as good a grip on reality as most others but... but now?

Roxas looked down at his phone, as if it would give him any answers. His hand was shaking, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped it in a vice-like hold.

“Are you okay, young man?”

Roxas’ head snapped up and he locked eyes with an older man, who was giving him a worried look.

“I, uh...” Roxas faltered and looked around nervously. As much as he’d hated being so bleakly alone, he now also hated having any eyes on him at all. “I... yeah, I just... yeah.” Roxas backed away slowly, trying to avoid the man’s stare. With one last quick “I’m fine”, he turned and hurried back the way he came.

The archway leading back to the main road was a welcome sight, and Roxas felt he could properly breath again only once he passed back under it, and into the full light of the evening sun.

He risked a glance back from where he came, but everything looked normal. Busy and full of life, as though what he had just experienced was all a dream.

Roxas wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. Either way, he didn’t linger. He continued on his way home, and if he walked a little faster than before, that was just fine.

Somewhere along the way, he managed to compose himself. He didn’t want to show up at his apartment looking a shaken mess. Not with how Zexion had worried about him before. And given how he'd decided to continue his experiments on the sly despite his promise to Zexion that he would stop, he didn't want to risk raising his roommate's suspicions.

So, he went home, and put on a mask that he hoped said _‘everything is alright!’_

He was worried for a moment when Zexion took one look at him and immediately asked, “Are you okay?” Roxas feigned confusion and his friend continued. “You walked home. Normally you take the train, unless you’re planning to do something on the way back.”

“O-oh! Right, well,” Roxas chuckled and kicked his shoes off, leaving them and his bag in a heap by the door. “I... ran into Seifer when I was leaving work. You know how he is. I decided the walk would help me cool off.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Zexion hummed and nodded his head. “I know how you _both_ are.”

“I didn’t start it!” Roxas whined and shuffled over to join his friend in the kitchen. Zexion didn’t cook much — neither of them did — but it seemed he’d picked up some food at the store and was in the middle of making spaghetti. Nothing fancy, but it was more than Roxas could make, anyway.

“I’m guessing you didn’t end it either, did you?” Zexion asked as he kept an eye on the food, He had the audacity to look smug when Roxas chose only to grumble in reply.

“Anyway,” Roxas huffed, opting to change the subject. “Are you feeding me too?”

“And why should I?” Zexion asked with a raised brow.

Roxas leaned his head on his roommate’s shoulder and gave the man a nudge. “Cause I’m tired and hungry and you care about me?”

“I suppose,” Zexion said with a theatrical sigh. “Go grab some plates. And Roxas?”

Roxas paused in his mission to grab their plates and utensils to look questioningly back at Zexion.

“You’re sure you’re alright? You just look... pale.”

Roxas did his best to plaster on a genuine-looking smile under his friend’s piercing stare. “Yeah, I... yeah. Like I said, I’m just tired. It was a long day and the run-in with Seifer was like... the final nail in the coffin, ya know?”

Zexion watched him a moment longer, as if scanning Roxas’ face for deceit. “Alright,” he finally said and turned back to their food.

If asked, Roxas would admit he felt a little guilty about lying to his friend. About keeping secret the calls he listened to, the strange dream, and whatever it was he’d just experienced. But Zexion didn’t need to know what was going on. He didn’t need to worry, and he didn’t need to be affected by... _whatever_ it was Roxas had stumbled into.

So yes, Roxas felt guilty, but even more so, he felt it was the right thing to do.

Zexion didn’t have to know.


	12. Log 6.1

_“He can’t cook.”_

_“What?”_

_“Dr. G⬛⬛⬛⬛. He invited me to stay and help him make dinner, but he can’t cook to save his life. For a man as smart as he is, he’s a walking hazard in the kitchen.”_

_“You’re still going to his place?”_

_“I— yes?”_

_“Oh. I just thought you’d given up.”_

_“Well... I’ve given up getting him to share his work with me. But, I felt bad about how I’d barged in on him so I thought I’d.. I dunno. Stick around and do him some actual favors.”_

_“And he actually asked you to stay for dinner?”_

_“He asked me to stay and ‘help make’ dinner. I ended up chasing him out and doing it myself. Didn’t want the whole place to burn down.”_

_“Heh, sounds like you had fun.”_

_“...I did, actually. I did.”_

_“You gonna keep going back?”_

_“I think I will. As long as he’ll tolerate me, of course.”_

_\-----_

_“Back again I see.”_

_“Ya know, it’s a wonder you’ve survived as long as you have with your culinary skills. Or lack thereof. I’d never have a clear conscience if I left you to eat what you cooked.”_

_“Myyy, how generous. Well, come on in. Where’d you learn to cook anyway?”_

_“Hmm? Oh, my brother’s partner taught me.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Mm-hmm. Parents died when I was just a kiddo, so my brother took custody of me. He and his partner raised me. Despite lookin’ like he could snap you in half — which he could — his partner was a pretty mean cook. So he taught me. Now, my brother’s cooking on the other hand, is almost as bad as yours. Almost.”_

_“Gee, thanks.”_

_“Who taught you? Or, I guess, failed to teach you?”_

_“Heh, my parents. Oh, they tried of course. They both were decent in the kitchen, and tried to teach both me and my brother. He got the hang of it. Me, well… not so much.”_

_“Well, you’re in luck Dr. G⬛⬛⬛⬛, because tonight I’m gonna make one of my specialties. It’s-”_

_“R⬛⬛⬛⬛.”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“My name. Just… R⬛⬛⬛⬛ is fine.”_

_“Heh… alright, R⬛⬛⬛⬛. I’m A⬛⬛⬛⬛. Now, come here and watch but don’t touch anything.”_

_“It’s my kitchen!”_

_“So I’m doing you a favor!”_


	13. The Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta reader SirLadySketch recommends putting on 'Lazy Afternoons' to listen to while reading. ♥

_**Subject: New message** _

_**$ea_$alt:** hey guys, I got a new call the other day. I’ve never gotten a call like this before. I wish i hadn’t answered the phone cause now i don’t have the message to share, but I’ve written it down best I can remember_

_**5_mysteries_message.txt** _

_**$ea_$alt:** anyone else gotten something like this?_

_**_Stormfall_:** I haven’t, this is new to me_

_**☆seashell14☆:** same! i haven’t heard this one at all!_

_**hyperi0n:** yo how we supposed to kno this is real? we all just gotta take ur word 4 it??_

_**$ea_$alt:** sorry like i said, i wish i hadn’t answered the phone so i’d have the voicemail as proof. why would i lie about this tho?_

_**hyperi0n:** idk man ur the one who talked about bein fuckin hipnotized by the calls n shit!_

_**$ea_$alt:** i’m not lying!!_

_**☆seashell14☆:** well I believe $ea_$alt_

_**_Stormfall_:** It is unusual, but then, all the calls have been. I have a question though. The message mentioned this ‘Institute’ place. It’s not referring to the Daybreak Institute is it?_

_**$ea_$alt:** it’s gotta be. idk of any other famous institute that would be in such a tall building_

_**_Stormfall_:** Interesting. I wasn’t aware any of the calls were local to me._

_**$ea_$alt:** wait you live here too?_

_**_Stormfall_:** Yes. I’m not near the Institute per se, but I can see the building from my apartment window._

_**☆seashell14☆:** im in the same city???_

_**8rotherhood:** oh ya, same. i live on the outskirts but i totally pass the institute on my ride 2 work_

_**hyperi0n:** hold tf up we all live in the same city??_

_**_Stormfall_:** It seems like it._

_**8rotherhood:** thats jus weird..._

_**☆seashell14☆:** idk it might actually make a lot of sense. if the calls are being sent out only to local numbers or like... in some kind of radius, then teh only logical conclusion is we’d all live in the same city_

_**$ea_$alt:** so... this makes it highly likely the calls are being broadcast locally? From somewhere/someone in town?_

_**☆seashell14☆:** i’d say its at least a theory that holds water_

_**hyperi0n:** IF $altys story is even tru (spoiler it might not b)_

_**$ea_$alt:** omg shut uuuuuuuup_

With the new message finally came a game plan.

Up until that point, Roxas had been mostly flailing when it came to figuring out anything behind the mysterious calls. His largest contribution thus far had been to log the calls he got and carefully sort and detail them.

So, not much.

Not that the other members on the forum had been faring much better. _8rotherhood_ had been trying to track where the calls were coming from. So far, no luck, but they’d resolved to double down their efforts with the revelation that the calls might be local.

__Stormfall__ and _☆seashell14☆_ both discussed theories behind the calls. What they might mean, what they might be trying to say. __Stormfall__ 's most recent theory was that there was possibly a story being told through the messages. That they were all connected and told a cohesive narrative, but were jumbled and needed to be sorted into the correct order first to be understood. They were still trying to figure out said order.

And _hyperi0n_? Roxas didn’t really know what they contributed, actually. Their biggest contribution seemed to be pointing out the flaws in everyone else’s plans. Roxas generously decided they were like a really, really annoying beta tester for the group.

But, all that aside, Roxas had a plan now. The last call wasn’t as vague as the ones that came before. It had concrete information he could actually investigate.

He decided he would start with the first mystery of Gravity Hill. It had taken him some research since he’d never heard of the place, and it obviously wasn’t called Gravity Hill officially, but Roxas was confident he’d pinpointed the exact place referenced.

Roxas headed out on a Saturday. He told Zexion he was on the hunt for some new parts for the little droid project he had, quite frankly, left mostly abandoned since getting invested in the calls.

And it wasn’t entirely a lie! Roxas _did_ plan to do some hunting for parts he could use, so he could finally get some more work done on his pet project. He just omitted the part where he was also hunting down some rumor based on the calls he’d already told Zexion he was ignoring.

He took the train out to the west side of town. Despite butting right up against a beautiful beach, the place had never become a tourist trap— something Roxas was both surprised and grateful for.

Instead, the place remained largely residential and recreational for the locals. Buildings grew smaller compared to the towering ones in the inner city. Things felt more quaint. Older and less advanced compared to the shining modernity of places like the Institute, but no less lovely in their own way.

After some searching, Roxas finally found what he had determined to be the hill from the rumor. It was a straight road, wide enough for two cars, and lined with narrow two story homes on either side. It terminated at the bottom of the hill in a T, with traffic having to stop before turning either left or right.

Roxas stood at the bottom intersection for a few minutes and simply observed his surroundings. Despite its close proximity to the beach, the hill wasn’t terribly busy with traffic. Vehicles would come in waves, most likely from a stoplight somewhere up near the top of the hill.

That was good since it Roxas remembered correctly, the rumor said a round object needed to be placed in the _center_ of the road. Which meant Roxas would have to do a bit of traffic dodging.

He’d contemplated coming at night, when there would be less people out. But he wasn’t keen on wandering unfamiliar streets alone after dark. Plus, he didn’t want Zexion questioning where he was going so late at night.

So, Roxas would just have to deal with traffic and time his attempt. After a few more minutes of observation, Roxas determined he had about a 45 to 60 second window between when the road cleared and when cars would begin to come down the hill.

Traffic coming from the bottom of the hill was less predictable, but at least much lighter. He’d just have to find the perfect window and take it.

And take it he did. Traffic cleared and his time limit started. Roxas hurried out into the crosswalk and stopped in the center, right at the bottom of the hill. He reached into his pocket and fished out a marble he’d managed to find laying around the apartment.

Carefully, Roxas set the small glass ball down on the ground, making sure it was steady and wouldn’t roll away as soon as he let go. Once satisfied that it was properly in place, Roxas stood up, took a step back, and waited.

And waited.

And to his surprise—

Nothing happened.

With a groan and a realization that traffic was coming his way, Roxas scooped up the marble and trotted back to the safety of the sidewalk.

Okay, that hadn’t gone well, but maybe he just did something wrong. He’d just have to try again. No experiment was done after just one trial, after all.

When traffic cleared, Roxas again hurried out into the center of the cross walk, and set the marble down. Once again, nothing happened, and Roxas was forced to grab the marble and make another hasty retreat when his time was up.

He attempted the same method a few more times, with the same result, before he decided he should alter his approach.

Roxas tried changing where he placed the marble. In the direct center of the crosswalk, or to right where it looked like the slope in the road ended. Eventually he disregarded the marble needing to be in the center altogether, and tried placing it in spots all around the bottom of the hill, just to see if something would change.

Time and time again, nothing happened.

Roxas knew he must look like a bit of a madman, if anyone was watching his antics. Hell, he was starting to feel like one.

Traffic cleared and once again, Roxas moved into the crosswalk and set the marble down. He waited, and waited, but the ball didn’t move at all. It didn’t even roll away from a passing breeze, much less roll up the hill on its own accord.

Roxas sighed and picked it back up. He examined the glass ball closely, as though his problem came with some defect in the marble and not the absurdity of the rumor itself.

From behind him, there was a loud honk, and Roxas fumbled the marble. It dropped from his fingers and began to roll away. Roxas offered an apologetic wave to the disgruntled driver, and ran after the ball.

He wasn’t fast enough however, and the glass trinket rolled down the curb and right into a nearby storm drain. That effectively ended his experiment, and Roxas figured he was safe to mark the ‘Mystery of Gravity Hill’ off as a fake. He planned to let the group know later, once he’d investigated all the mysteries he could.

It was another week before Roxas had the chance to go out again and continue his investigation. And truth be told, he didn’t hold out much hope for the second mystery, especially after the failure of the first. As far as he could remember, the second rumor had been far more vague than the first, at least in terms of how to find it. The call had merely said a mysterious vending machine was _somewhere_ in the old south district.

It wasn’t much to go on, but sill, Roxas had to try.

So, that Saturday, he once again ventured out and hopped the train, this time riding it down to the south side of town. It was a part of the city Roxas was least familiar with. It was older, and a bit worn down compared to other areas. The buildings and the streets were looking a little worse for wear, and a couple of places were abandoned altogether.

The city had plans to fix things up a bit, of course, and was actively working on doing so. However, that meant the eyesore of construction work also littered the area.

Roxas wandered the streets somewhat aimlessly. Initially he stuck to the main streets, more comfortable in the wide open, populated areas. He kept an eye out for any suspicious looking vending machines, but none caught his eye. All of them were brands he recognized, and even the older models still look pretty well serviced.

With a sinking feeling, Roxas realized that a mysterious, borderline magic vending machine would probably not be right out in the open. It was silly to expect to just find something like that on any old street corner in the open. Especially if it was only known through rumors.

But Roxas didn’t want to wander the back streets. He _really_ didn’t want to do that.

Not only was he in an unfamiliar part of town, Roxas had no desire to experience a repeat of the ‘empty places’ event. Even weeks later, Roxas found himself glancing down empty alleys nervously, watching them from the corner of his eye and holding his breath until he saw someone enter or emerge from them.

Since stumbling into that eerie backstreet, Roxas had been sticking strictly to his usual routes, and avoiding smaller, quieter streets as much as possible. Even his trip to the west side of town the week prior had kept him on open, well populated routes.

But, if Roxas wanted to find some mysterious vending machine tucked away in some secret place, he was likely going to have to go off the beaten path to do it.

So, it was with trepidation that Roxas finally turned down a small back street, tucked between a couple of older buildings. He saw a cat emerge from that direction so he figured that was a good enough sign that the way was safe.

This became his strategy for exploring the smaller streets and alleys on the sour side. Roxas would wait near the next path he wanted to go down, and watch for anyone or anything to enter or emerge from that direction. Even a bird landing in an alley was enough to assure him he wouldn’t be walking into another empty space.

All the while, Roxas kept his eyes peeled for any suspicious looking vending machines. He got his hopes up a couple of times when he’d come across an exceptionally old one. But they were just that; old. Empty and out of service. No magically filled machine to be found.

After hours of searching, Roxas finally decided he needed a break. He bought a drink at a working vending machine — an irony not lost on him — and settled down on a nearby bench to give his tired feet a rest.

A few yards away, a group of kids were playing basketball on an open court that had clearly seen better days. Roxas leaned back on the bench, half watching them play as he considered his next course of action.

He’d already spent hours scouring the south side, walking up and down the different streets and back alleyways. He retraced his steps two, sometimes even three times to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He wasn’t sure where to look anymore. Sure, there was still more to the south district to explore, but Roxas had covered the bulk of it and found nothing.

Roxas was startled from his thoughts when a basketball came bouncing his way, practically landing in his lap. He fumbled and dropped what remained of his drink on the ground, though he managed to catch the ball.

“Sorry!” The group of kids from the court hurried his way. “We’re real sorry! You good?” one of them asked.

Roxas chuckled and stood up, doing his best to shake off a bit of his spilled soda. He was going to be sticky for the rest of the day.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. No harm done.” He tossed the basketball back to the kids, when a thought hit him. “You guys live around here?”

The group shared a look between them, before the girl who’d caught the ball from him responded, “Yeah. Why?”

“I ah... I’m looking into a rumor about this part of town. I was wondering if any of you had heard of it.” The kids just stared at him curiously, interested piqued, so Roxas continued. He gave them a brief rundown of the rumor and what he knew, and concluded with, “That’s all I’ve really got. It’s not much, I know, so I was wondering if any of you had ever heard of something like that. Since, you live in the area and all.”

The kids all shared a look amongst themselves, and some shook their heads while others simply shrugged.

“Nah,” one boy spoke up. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Me neither,” the girl next to him added.

“Can you imagine if it was real though? How cool would that be?”

“I dunno... sounds kinda spooky to me.”

Roxas listened as the group discussed the possibility of the rumor, and the pros and cons of its possible existence. Some seemed interested by it, while others were skeptical, but none seemed to show any recognition or further knowledge on the subject.

“So... none of you have heard anything like that, huh?” He finally asked.

The kids turned their attention back to him and again they all shook their heads.

“Nah, sorry man. Don’t know if anything like that around here.”

“We can ask around though! Maybe keep our eyes peeled?” A girl in the back added.

Roxas just chuckled and waved his hand to dismiss the thought. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s probably a fake, I just thought I’d ask. Learn from my mistake and don’t go on a wild goose chase. Thanks anyway.”

Seeming satisfied, and eager to return to their game, the kids gave him a quick wave before they all scrambled back to the court. Roxas let out a long breath and rubbed at the back of his neck.

This had been another wasted day.

As he rode the train home, Roxas considered his next steps. He decided to skip Mystery Three, and go straight to number Four. Not because of the contents of the mystery, but the ease with which he could investigate it.

Looking into a mysterious shadow in the tunnels — which Roxas found were located on the east end of town — would most likely be another all-day venture. The ghost train, however, could supposedly only be seen around sunset. That meant that while he only had a short window to try and catch it, it would also be a very quick mystery to look into and either prove or disprove. Better yet, it was a short walk from work so Roxas could simply tell Zexion he was going to stay late at the office one evening, and just leave for Sunset Hill, no questions asked

The next week, Roxas decided to put his plan into action. Zexion, as he predicted, didn't suspect a thing, too caught up in his own work to question Roxas' intentions to 'catch up on some stuff.' Roxas bid him farewell and took a side exit from the Institute to head out to Mystery Four's location

Sunset Hill itself, Roxas found, was also in the west end. Specifically, it was north-west, and could be found after following the coast line all the way up, till the landscape sloped into a tall hill. 

Roxas had to walk up a winding dirt path to reach the top. At the summit, Roxas was greeted with a flat stretch of earth covered in soft, green grass, and an amazing view of the ocean. The western face of the hill dropped off sharply into the water below, so a white wooden fence was set up as a safety barrier. Two benches, each painted the same white, sat on opposite ends of the hill. One looked inwards on the grassy expanse, while the other faced outward, with a view of the ocean. Finally, also on the cliff side, sat a small building in the shape of a lighthouse. Crafted from red brick and a little less than two stories tall, it was clearly more decorative than a functioning safety system. At best, Roxas figured it was there to light the hill for pedestrians such as himself.

All in all, it was a lovely spot. It felt strangely nostalgic, and if Roxas was the kind of person to go on picnics, he figured the hill would be an ideal spot.

But Roxas wasn’t there for leisure, he was on a mission. According to the rumor, if one waited around until sunset, they might catch a glimpse of a mysterious ghost train pass by. Roxas wasn’t sure exactly _where_ he was supposed to see the train. Would it chug along right across the hill, or appear somewhere way out on the open ocean? The call hadn’t said, so he figured he’d just have to keep his eyes peeled in all directions.

Roxas was alone, which gave him the dim hope that he might actually see something. If the hill was popular enough to warrant benches and fencing for people who spent time there, then he had to wonder why so few people had seen or heard of the train before. Roxas figured it must only show itself to people who are alone. Spooky ghost things usually worked that way, right?

Roxas wasn’t entirely sure when the train was supposed to arrive either. The call had said ‘sunset’, but left it vague beyond that, allowing for a window of time.

As Roxas waited for the sun to sink lower down, he made a pass around the perimeter of the hill, with the goal of investigating the area properly. He checked around and even under the benches, and inspected the structure of the fencing. He looked over the edge of the hill to the water below, and made sure to give the little light house a thorough once-over. 

He was hoping to find either some kind of proof the ghost train existed, or some kind of reasoning behind it. Maybe light from the lighthouse played tricks on people. Maybe the fence creaked in the wind and made people hear things that weren’t there. Anything that might explain the rumor.

But Roxas didn’t find anything. Everything on the hill was solid, well taken care of, and thoroughly normal. So, after a second pass around the area, Roxas resigned himself to simply waiting out the sunset to see if anything would happen. Roxas deposited himself on the bench that faced in towards the open grassy area. It gave him a good view of the hill, the little lighthouse, and the setting sun beyond.

The minutes ticked by, and Roxas kept a vigilant watch, eyes and ears on high alert. Out across the ocean, the sun sank lower and lower. The world was cast in its bright red glow, and the water sparkled with golden hues.

Again, Roxas was struck with how beautiful it was. Of course, he thought the whole city was beautiful, but there was something different about this spot. If he were a more spiritual man, Roxas would say the ‘energy’ felt different. Looking out across the ocean, in this quiet spot, without the hustle and bustle of the city, Roxas almost felt like he was in a different place entirely. He felt suddenly nostalgic for a place he’d never been before.

Shaking his head, Roxas glanced down at his phone. It was just past 7pm, and the sun was making its way further and further down the sky. In just a few minutes, it would touch the horizon.

Roxas sat forward a little, anticipation etching a tense line in his shoulders. Nothing bad had happened yet, but if it was going to, surely it would have to happen once the sun dipped down to the horizon. That was as ‘sunset’ as the sun could get, after all.

Roxas rapped his fingers on the white painted wood of the bench as he surveyed his surroundings. Everything was quiet and still, but not in the way the eerie ‘empty space’ had been. Just naturally quiet, save for the gentle waves rolling in below, and the cries of distance birds flying above. It was quiet as though the world was waiting in anticipation with him.

In the distance, the sun finally touched the horizon below, and Roxas let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. A small part of him had hope, maybe even expected something to happen then.

But, there was nothing.

Roxas looked at his phone, glanced at the sun for as long as his eyes could stand, then got up and began pacing around the summit again. He was startled when, above him, the lighthouse flickered to life. As he suspected, it was more decorative, and meant to give light to the little hill than to actually act as a warning signal to ships on the ocean. But Roxas did a quick sweep of the area nonetheless. He looked for any strange shadows that might act as an optical illusion. He also listened for signs of an actual train passing by.

Still nothing.

The minutes ticked by, and by the time the sun was cut in half by the horizon, Roxas was pacing back and forth across the grass. He chewed at his nails, and checked his phone at least every minute. The world around him grew darker and darker. The brilliant reds and golds faded into dark purples and deep blues. A few particularly bright stars came into view above as the sky dimmed, and the little summit on the hill was illuminated in the lighthouse’s warm glow.

Finally, the sun sank below the waves, and Roxas stared at the spot where it had disappeared. He waited, willing something — _anything_ — to happen.

It didn’t, and Roxas finally released a long suffering and tired sigh.

He glanced at his phone, seeing it was just past 7:30pm. With one last glance out across the sea, Roxas turned and began to trek back down the hill, resigned to having wasted another evening.

_**$ea_$alt:** I haven’t found anything. idk what im doing wrong_

_**$ea_$alt:** scratch that, I know exactly what im doing wrong. I’m taking some dumb rumors from a phone call seriously and lettin them lead me on a wild goose chase!!!_

_**$ea_$alt:** im an idiot_

_**☆seashell14☆:** aww you’re not an idiot! You gave it ur best shot. Are you gonna look into the last two mysteries?_

_**$ea_$alt:** idk i can’t say I’m really eager to. not with the first three going so poorly. The last one is pretty much out of the question. I don’t have a car or anything to drive out of the city, and I can’t say I want to go thru the effort after the other mysteries have been bunk_

_**☆seashell14☆:** fair enough. What about the third one tho? the one about the shadow in the tunnels?_

_**$ea_$alt:** idk I’ve been debating if i wanna check it out or not. not with how the others have gone so far_

_**☆seashell14☆:** oh, well I was gonna check it out!_

_**$ea_$alt:** oh yeah?_

_**☆seashell14☆:** ya! the tunnels are kinda close to where I live, so i was gonna check em out in my spare time. if I do we could compare notes? if you also look into it ofc_

_**$ea_$alt:** yeah i’ll think about it. If I don’t go, tell me what you find?_

_**☆seashell14☆:** will do!_

A week later and Roxas was getting impatient.

He had hoped to hear back from ☆seashell14☆ about their investigation into the message, but so far there had been nothing but radio silence.

For the most part, Roxas simply assumed they were busy and hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Though, a small part of him worried from time to time if they’d gotten themselves into trouble while looking into the mystery.

Roxas didn’t want to bother them, however. At least, not just to see if they’d gone investigating. So, when Saturday finally rolled back around, Roxas decided to suck it up and venture out to look into the mystery of the tunnels himself. At least then he’d both satisfy his lingering curiosity, and have a valid reason to contact his internet friend again. Zexion was out for the day, so Roxas didn’t have to make up another excuse as he left the apartment, and rode the train out to the east station. 

Maintenance tunnels spread crisscross beneath the entirety of the city, but the main concentration of them were on the east side, as were the two main entrances to them.

The tunnels were originally, or course, off limits to the public. But that didn’t stop people from sneaking into them fairly regularly. A river cut the east side in half, and it didn't take people long to realize that the tunnels, which ran beneath the waterline, created a very handy shortcut from one side to the other. It seemed the city council eventually gave up on trying to prevent access to the tunnels years ago, and blocked off most of the truly important paths - ones that led to equipment and other supplies - and simply turned a blind eye to people using the main tunnel.

If there was any truth to the Mystery of the Tunnel Shadows, Roxas figured the east side was a good place to start his search.

So, armed with his phone, and flashlight (just in case), Roxas arrived at Entrance Gate 01, which sat just on the west side of the river. Sure enough, despite all the warning signs claiming “No Entry” and “Authorized Personnel Only”, the gate was wide open.

Roxas rolled his eyes.

Checking his flashlight and phone battery one last time, Roxas moved forward and stepped into the awaiting tunnel. The air inside was cooler, albeit a bit musty. Daylight filtered in through the large open gate, and lit the path for several yards. Beyond that, lights strung up along the walls took over and lit the way with an orange glow.

The bulbs hummed softly, and there was the faint sound of dripping water here and there, but aside from that, the tunnels were were quiet. Save for Roxas’ own footsteps, of course. Roxas had been worried the place would be cramped and dark, and altogether claustrophobic, but it was surprisingly spacious and well lit.

He walked slowly, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any signs of life. Or whatever you might classify a mysterious shadow as.

The tunnel stretched on for a few more yards before it turned sharply to the left. Roxas followed it and was met with another, longer stretch of tunnel, with another sharp turn at the other end, this time leading to the right. Beyond that, the tunnel began to branch off more with smaller secondary paths jutting off from the main tunnel.

Roxas kept on the main path but looked down each new offshoot to get a glimpse of where it led. The main tunnel itself twisted a few more times, each turn another sharp 90 degree angle, and in roughly ten minutes Roxas found himself standing at Entrance Gate 02 on the opposite side of the river. Confident that he now knew the main thoroughfare through the tunnel, Roxas turned around and went back inside.

This time, instead of taking the main path through again, Roxas turned off into one of the smaller tunnels. It ran straight for a few paces, then went down a couple steps before the path turned sharply to the right. Roxas glanced back in the direction he had come, as though making sure the path back was still there, before he followed the turn.

A few more twists and turns and one blocked offshoot later, Roxas emerged into another large tunnel. It took a moment of scanning the area for Roxas to realize it was the same main tunnel that cut beneath the river-- the very one he’d started in.

Surprised, Roxas looked back down the tunnel he’d just emerged from. It struck him as odd that the smaller tunnel should simply reconnect to the main one, rather than lead anywhere. Well, aside from the one blocked path, but even then, surely there was a more efficient way for those to connect to the main tunnel?

Shaking his head, Roxas moved on to explore the next offshoot. Again, it led him down a twisting, turning path, though this time there were even more branches in the tunnel which were not blocked off. Roxas opted to bypass them for the time being and, within a few short minutes, once again found himself back in the main tunnel.

With a huff and quickened pace, Roxas went down the next side tunnel, only to once _again_ be deposited back into the main path at the other end. He quickly found that all the secondary tunnels looped back into the main one. He had yet to try any of the tertiary paths, but Roxas was beginning to understand how people could get turned around and wind up right back where they started when chasing someone — or something — through the underground system. If there _was_ any truth to the rumor, it was that.

Roxas was debating if he should explore some of the deeper offshoots when there was the sound of footsteps in the direction of Gate 02. Peering in their direction, Roxas was startled to see a tall shadow cast along the wall, though the person casting it was still around the corner. The many lights lining the tunnel gave the shadow a bit of a blurry edge, haloed by less defined versions of itself that faded in and out as whoever was on the other side passed by each light source.

Cautiously, Roxas crept closer, eyes never leaving the long shadow. His heart began to race and he gripped his phone tightly in his hands. All the rumors had been dead ends so far. Could this one actually be true?

The footsteps from the other side grew closer and closer as Roxas himself neared the corner. At the very edge of the corner, Roxas paused, nervous to see who or what was on the other side.

He didn’t have a chance to round the bend. Roxas had overestimated how far the other person was from doing the same, and before he knew it a tall figure turned the sharp corner and nearly collided with him.

The person — a tall woman — yelped and stumbled back a pace, nearly dropping the phone they’d been busy texting on.

“Holy _shit!_ ” she cursed, and brought a hand to her chest.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Roxas held up his hands and took his own step away from the woman. She was taller than him, blond hair slicked back save for a pair of loose strands. She peered down at him for a moment, then groaned and rolled her icy blue eyes.

“Watch where you’re going, would ya?” she huffed. “Nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Y-yeah, sorry...” Roxas repeated weakly. The imposing woman glared down at him and, taking the hint, Roxas quickly scrambled to the side to let her pass. With the room in the tunnel she could have easily gone around him, but Roxas was not about to fight her in it.

With another dramatic huff, the woman continued on her way, and Roxas watched her stalk off until she had made it to the other end of the tunnel and turned the corner out of sight. Once she was gone, Roxas let out a long sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. He mentally berated himself for getting his hopes up so quickly. Of _course_ other actual people would be down here. He shouldn’t have been so quick to assume any old shadow was the mystery one. Especially when all the other rumors had come up negative so far.

Still, Roxas figured he would search a little longer before giving up on this one as well.

“At least I’ll have a funny story for Seashell at the end of all this,” he muttered to himself as he wandered back down one of the secondary tunnels.

From there, Roxas decided to explore every one of the smaller tertiary tunnels in earnest. What he discovered was a nonsensical maze. Tunnels looped back in on themselves, doubled back to the main path, or ended in a dead end altogether. None seemed to actually lead anywhere. _If_ any of the tunnels went somewhere important, Roxas could only imagine it were the few he found that were blocked off from the public — gated and locked so no one but authorized personnel could venture further into the maze of tunnels.

But even then, it didn’t explain the maddening and nonsensical way the open tunnels seemed to be built.

“This is stupid.” He muttered to himself as he once again emerged from one tunnel to find himself right back in the main thoroughfare. He pulled his phone out from where he’d stored it in his back pocket and checked the time. He’d been doing this — going around in circles under the city — for over an hour. And he discovered nothing except that whoever built the tunnels was, perhaps, an idiot.

And speaking of idiots...

“What did I expect?” he groaned and leaned back against the cool brick tunnel wall. He unlocked his phone and pulled up a new browser page. The rumor was clearly bunk, but now Roxas was curious if anyone was talking about how downright weird the tunnels were in their own right.

His service wasn’t strong, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering he was underground. Roxas tapped at his phone and watched as the loading wheel spun round and round, waiting for the connection to go through.

What was he going to do next? Roxas certainly wasn’t going to drive out of the city to test the final rumor. Not after all the others had so clearly wasted his time. He’d have to explain to the forum that the new message had been a dud. A false lead. Hell, it probably wasn’t connected to the other calls at all and Roxas had just wasted a lot of time.

Roxas sighed and focused back on his phone. It still hasn’t been able to connect to the internet, so Roxas decided to give up on his search until he was once again above ground.

And then something caught his eye. A dark shape, just in the corner of his vision.

Roxas slowly looked up from his phone and peered down the long tunnel. There, on the opposite wall a few yards away was a tall, black shadow. Roxas was about to call out, assuming it was another pedestrian coming his way, but he stopped himself.

The shadow didn’t move. It wasn’t walking towards him, nor away. It just... stood there. What’s more, as Roxas watched it, he noticed it was different than the one the woman had cast earlier. Different than his own currently on the wall behind him.

Where his and the woman’s shadows were blurred and multiplied due to the tunnel’s various lights, this new shadow stood alone, deep black and with a crisp edge. It almost looked as though it were painted there, though Roxas knew that was impossible, seeing as he’d passed that very spot multiple times already.

Staring at it sent a nervous shiver down Roxas’ spine.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and called out, “Hello?”

No one replied, but after a moment’s pause, the shadow moved. It turned and began to walk slowly away.

“Hey, w-wait!” Roxas called out and quickly followed after the figure. It turned sharply down one of the side tunnels and out of sight. Roxas rounded the same corner moments later, only to see the shadow already on the far wall at the other end. Before Roxas could even make it halfway down the tunnel, it once again disappeared around the next corner.

Roxas huffed and picked up his pace, walking faster to try and keep up with the other figure. Around the next corner, the strange shadow was once again on the far wall. It lingered seemingly just long enough to ensure Roxas saw it, before disappearing around the next curve.

The next three corners were very much the same. The figure waited just long enough for Roxas to catch a glimpse of them before hurrying off.

Fairly sure he was being toyed with, Roxas decided to change tactics. The shadow had just disappeared down another tunnel, and if Roxas remembered correctly, that tunnel looped back around and reconnected just a few yards away. Rather than chase the shadow down where it went, Roxas opted to sneak down to where the tunnel would deposit on the other side and catch them there.

Roxas rounded the corner, expecting to come face to face with whoever was toying with him, only to find....

Nothing.

The person— the shadow — wasn’t there. A look down the long side tunnel showed it to be completely empty.

Frowning, Roxas turned back around, and nearly fell back on his ass when he saw the shadow right behind him.

Well, not directly behind him. Rather, it was at the end of the very long side tunnel opposite the one he had just checked. The one the shadow should have been down. Roxas did a double take, as if to make sure there wasn’t a second shadow. There was no way someone could move that fast after all, right? There was no way someone could circle around and get all the way down that second tunnel in the short time it had taken Roxas to check there first.

And... had that second tunnel always been there?

Roxas shook his head. Of course it had. He was just getting turned around, and he didn’t notice it with his attention on the strange figure.

And speaking or the shadow; the figure lingered just a few seconds longer, before slipping off around the corner at the end of the tunnel. With a frustrated growl, Roxas gave chase in earnest. His heavy footsteps echoed throughout the tunnels as he ran after the taunting figure.

He ran down tunnel after tunnel, took turn after turn, and still the figure evaded him. It led him through twisting and winding tunnels, which suddenly seemed far more complex than they had minutes ago. One twisted to the left five times it seemed, before somehow spitting him back out into the main thoroughfare again. Another found his suddenly tripping and sloshing through a shallow pool of sitting water, cursing as it seeped into his shoes and socks. Another tunnel climbed a whole set of stairs before again - frustratingly - Roxas was back where he started.

And still, no matter how fast Roxas ran, no matter the length of each tunnel or where it went, the shadow evaded him.

In the back of his mind, Roxas realized he no longer knew where he was. The tunnels seemed so much larger and more complicated than they initially had. They looked different too. Some lights were busted. They smelled mustier and looked... older. The path was uneven, as though it hadn’t been maintained. Moss and mold grew along the walls. Bars that barricaded his way grew more prevalent, but also more rusted and old. Had he somehow been led into a deeper part of the system? If so, Roxas couldn’t recall where that had been.

A part of him said he should stop and turn back. End the chase and leave, before he got hopelessly lost. But Roxas had wasted _so much_ time already on wild goose chases. This was the first of the mysteries that had _any_ shred of truth to it, and Roxas was determined not to let it slip away. Not now.

Another turn, and Roxas nearly ran face first into a wall. He skidded to a stop, panting and sweating and stared at the solid brick wall that stood in his way.

A dead end.

“N- no way...!” He panted and gulped for air. He was sure, so _sure_ he’d seen the shadow turn down that way. It should _be_ there! There Was no way it couldn't be _right there!_

Roxas turned around and, to his dismay, there it was. Right behind him. Right at the corner he’d just turned down.

It should be impossible. It _was_ impossible.

Frantically, Roxas gave chase again. His legs were tired, and his lungs burned, but he was desperate now. He had to know what the hell was going on!

Maybe he _was_ being taunted. Maybe he _was_ being led on a wild goose chase like an idiot. But he was in too deep now.

The shadow never seemed to tire. Never seemed to falter. It stayed one step ahead at all times. Roxas wasn’t even sure he ever saw the figure run. It just slipped beyond each turn in the tunnels casually. As thought it really were just a shadow creeping along the walls, and not attached to a real person.

But that was impossible. It was impossible and Roxas would _prove_ it.

Just when Roxas’ legs felt like they were about to give out, he heard the sound of another person’s footsteps. The shadow itself had been silent, he realized. Or at least quiet enough from a distance that Roxas hadn’t heard the other person.

But there it was now; the sound of another pair of running feet. He was closing in!

The shadow slipped beyond another corner and Roxas gave chase. And just as he was about to round it, there was a second shadow, this time running _towards_ him.

Startled, Roxas tried to stop, but his momentum carried him forward, just as the other rounded the corner at the same time. Roxas hit something — _someone_ — solid, and was sent tumbling back from the impact.

He hit the ground hard and felt as the air was knocked from his already exhausted lungs. He coughed and sputtered and lay on his back on the cool cement ground.

It took him a minute to properly catch his breath, but once he did, he sat up with a groan. Then, with a start, he noticed the other figure lying in front of him, also sprawled out and trying to catch their breath.

They sat up as well, rubbing the back of their head, and Roxas was confronted with a young woman about his age. Dark black hair was cropped short around her jawline, and when she opened her eyes, they were a startling blue much like his own.

The woman seemed just as surprised to see him, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other. The silence was finally broken when the girl cracked a smile and let out a bright laugh.

“Sorry!” she chuckled. “Are you okay? Looks like we both took a nasty spill there.”

Roxas nodded dumbly, before clearing his throat. “O-oh, ah yeah! I’m fine! Are you?”

The woman nodded and slowly stood up. She dusted off her short overalls, although they looked like they were already stained and dirty before she’d taken her spill. A bit of black dirt or oil was even smudged across her arms and along her right cheek.

“Here,” she said, and extended a hand to Roxas. He took it and, with a surprising bit of strength, the young woman helped haul him up to his feet.

“So, what’s got you running around all wild down here?” she asked once they were both properly standing again.

Roxas chuckled as he dusted himself off. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded. “I was chasing a rumor.”

_That_ caught his attention, and Roxas whipped his head up to stare at her.

“Really. It... wouldn’t happen to be about a shadow running around down here... would it?”

She lit up at his question. “It is! I take it that means you were chasing after it too, huh?” She began walking, and Roxas followed. The shadow was probably long gone by now, and he wanted to see sunlight again.

“Yeah, I was. How, uh... how did you hear about that rumor?” So far Roxas hasn’t found anyone who’d heard of the mysteries around the city.

“A friend told me,” she replied. “Posted about it on a forum we met on. I told them I might try to check this one out, since it was close to where I lived.”

Roxas stopped. “Hold on...” he looked her up and down and spoke slowly. “Are you.... Seashell14? Your username, I mean.”

She was surprised for a moment, before a wide grin spread across her face. “Yeah, that’s me! Hold on, you’re on the forum too then?”

Roxas grinned and let out a breathy laugh, almost unable to believe the odds of their situation. He ran his hands down his face, tired but amused by the turn of events. “I am. We’ve been talking actually. I’m SeaSalt. My real name’s Roxas though.”

The girl barked out another loud laugh, and Roxas couldn’t help but follow suit. “What are the odds?” she chuckled, then turned to face him fully, holding out her hand for a shake. “Well, it’s nice to actually meet you face to face, Roxas. I’m Xion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seashell14 turns out to be Xion, surprising.... no one lol!
> 
> Anyway, as always thank you to my beta SirLadySketch, and thank you everyone who took the time to read this! ♥  
> The next chapter update I'll be posting will probably be for my other fic, as it's been a hot minute, but I've got some good energy going into both works right now, and I can't wait to get to the real meat of them.
> 
> Next chapter, more Xion! ♥


	14. Log 7.1

_“I see you’ve commandeered my tv.”_

_“Yup! Wanted some background noise while I made food.”_

_“Mm-hmm. And what are we watching?”_

_“What, you’ve never seen Casablanca?”_

_“...”_

_“You know…‘Here’s lookin at you, kid’? ‘Play it again, Sam’?”_

_“....”_

_“Oh my god you’ve never seen Casablanca.”_

_“Should I have?”_

_“Yes! It’s a classic!”_

_“It looks... old.”_

_“A classic!”_

_“Ha ha, if you say so.”_

_“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Casablanca! you’re killin’ me, smalls...”_

_“...”_

_“Sandlot??_ _”_

_“Sorry I don’t see a lot of movies. Especially not old ones.”_

_“Classics. And jeeze, we’re gonna have to fix that.”_

_“Oh, are we now?”_

_“Yes. I have so many I’m going to subject you to now.”_

_“Alright, subject me to your old, old movies, you old, old man.”_

_“ Classics. And I’m not old!”_

_“I look forward to it. ....is something burning?”_

_“ Shit!”_

_———_

_“What are you listening to?”_

_“Beethoven.”_

_“You like classical music?”_

_“Yeah, it’s what I listen to the most.”_

_“...now hold on.”_

_“What?”_

_“You give me shit for likin’ ‘old’ movies, and here you are listening to classical music? That’s even older! Stop laughing!”_

_“Sorry! I still say you’re an old man, but I guess I’m not better.”_

_“Damn right you’re not. What got you into classical music anyway?”_

_“My parents. They always liked it — I don’t know why — and would dance together in the kitchen.”_

_“Yeah? Sounds nice.”_

_“It was. They taught me how to dance a little.”_

_“Did that go better or worse than them teaching you to cook?”_

_“ Hey. ...it went better. Better than my brother anyway. He may have learned to cook, but he can’t tell his right foot from his left.”_

_“Hmm… you should teach me how to dance. Since you’re sooo skilled at it.”_

_“Heh, I said I was better than my brother. It’s not a high bar.”_

_“Still, teach me what you know sometime. Payment for me getting you cultured in movies and film.”_

_“Heh… Maybe I will.”_


End file.
